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THE  OPAL  SEA 


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THE  OPAL  SEA 


CONTINUED    STUDIES    IN 
IMPRESSIONS    AND    APPEARANCES 


BY 


JOHN    C.   VAN    DYKE 

AUTHOR  OF  "the    DESERT,"  "NATURE  FOR   ITS  OWN  SAKB," 
"art  for  art's  sake,"  etc.,  ETC. 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCEIBNER'S  SONS 
1906 


Copyright,  1906,  by 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Published,  March,  1906 


TROW  OIHECTORY 

PRINTING  AND  BOOKBINDINQ  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK 


PKEFACE-DEDICATION 

Co 
A.    T. 

It  is  the  heat  of  July,  Along  this  Dalma- 
tian coast,  since  early  morning,  the  white  tops 
of  the  Velebit  Mountains  have  been  glimmer- 
ing and  quivering  in  the  rosy  air  like  phan- 
toms of  the  mirage.  The  sky  that  started  so 
darkly  blue  has  trembled  on  to  evening  through 
every  shade  of  lilac  and  silver,  and  the  smooth 
Adriatic  lying  under  it  has  shown  no  floor  of 
lapis-lazuli,  but  in  its  place  the  pearl-like  sur- 
face of  the  opal.  Slowly  undulating,  gently 
moving,  but  with  no  flaw  upon  its  face,  the 
sea  has  thrown  off,  hour  after  hour,  the  min- 
gled hues  of  the  Oriental  stone.  Green  of 
emerald  and  aquamarine,  purple  of  amethyst, 
l)lue  of  sapphire,  rose  of  diamond  and  gold  of 
topaz,  all  have  passed  and  repassed;  and  now 
at  sunset,  with  every  color  fused  into  flame, 
the  scarlet  reflection  of  a  cloud  in  the  distant 
water  gives  the  fire  of  the  opal — the  point  of 
high  light  on  its  surface.  Therefore  why  not 
the  Opal  Sea? 

T 


ISO 


99Q9 


VI  PREFACE-DEDICATION 

Indeed,  my  title  is  not  so  fantastic  as  one 
might  think.  We  have  always  heard  of  the 
sea  as  "  deep  blue  "  and  fancied  perhaps  it  could 
be  no  other  color;  yet  if  you  look  do^vn  upon 
it  from  a  cliff  where  it  flows  over  white  rocks 
you  will  find  it  a  shade  of  green,  and  if  you 
plunge  beneath  the  surface  and  open  your  eyes 
under  water  you  will  discover  it  is  still  an- 
other shade  of  green.  Then  there  are  great 
arms  of  the  ocean  that  from  their  color  are 
known  as  the  Ked  Sea,  the  Yellow  Sea,  the 
White  Sea,  the  Black  Sea.  It  has  many  hues 
in  different  quarters  of  the  globe.  But  none 
of  these  local  colors  is  comparable  in  extent  or 
continuance  to  the  color  reflected  from  the  sea's 
surface.  Whatever  hue  is  in  the  sky,  whatever 
tint  may  be  produced  by  heat  or  cold,  by  sun- 
light or  moonlight  or  cloud-light,  the  water 
mirror  will  give  it  back.  The  sea  is  not  blue 
or  green  or  yellow  alone,  but  all  the  rainbow 
hues  blended  and  fused  by  sunlight  into  irides- 
cent fire.     Therefore  why  not  the  Opal  Sea? 

And,  again,  I  mean  by  that  title  to  suggest 
that  this  book,  though  it  treats  of  scientific 
things  at  times,  is,  in  design  at  least,  a  book 
of  color  and  atmosphere.  The  splendor  of  the 
sea  rather  than  its  origin,  its  cartography,  or 
its  chemistry  has  been  my  aim.     It  may  seem 


PEEFACE-DEDICATION  vii 

strange  that  in  this  material  age  one  should 
think  of  the  ocean  as  anything  more  than  an 
element  to  be  analyzed,  a  power  to  be  utilized, 
or  a  highway  to  be  commercialized.  The 
beauty  of  the  world  has  never  been  of  great 
pith  or  moment  to  mankind.  Its  admirers  are 
few,  its  destroyers  are  many.  And  those  who 
cry  out  against  wanton  destruction,  those  who 
have  seen  forest  and  prairie  and  mountain 
wrecked,  and  every  river  of  our  native  land 
blackened  in  the  name  of  manufactures,  now 
go  down  to  the  shore  and,  looking  out  from  the 
rocky  headlands,  thank  God  for  the  unpolluted 
sea.  Man  has  plowed  that  sea  with  ships, 
fought  for  it  with  navies,  assumed  command  of 
it  from  time  to  time;  but  never  because  of  its 
beauty.  A  more  sordid  aim  has  been  his  and 
made  him  quite  oblivious  to  charm.  He  has 
pursued  the  golden  will-o'-the-wisp,  and  Death 
has  sailed  with  him.  Will  he  never  learn  that 
happiness  is  not  a  matter  of  possessions,  and 
that  mental  content,  joy  of  heart,  a  love  of 
loveliness,  are  more  potent  factors  in  human 
well-being  than  naval  power  or  commercial 
gain?  When  the  hurly  burly's  done,  when  the 
flower  is  frayed  and  torn,  perhaps  he  may  heed, 
but  that  will  not  be  in  our  day.  In  the  mean- 
time the  great  ocean  in  all  its  glory  spreads 


Vlll  PREFACE-DEDICATION 

before  us;  the  lights  and  colors  of  its  sun- 
woven  fabric  are  still  ours;  we  still  may  know 
the  beauty  of  the  Opal  Sea. 

Not  here  alone  by  this  Dalmatian  coast  is 
the  wondrous  play  of  light  and  color  on  the 
outstretched  sea.  By  the  home  waters  of  the 
Atlantic,  by  West  Indian  strand  and  Peruvian 
headland  and  South  Sea  beach  there  is  the 
same  glint  of  flame  and  fire.  The  distant 
seas  where  once  rode  golden  galleons,  the  still 
waters  of  tropic  reefs  where  polyps  rear  castles 
of  coral,  the  encircling  waves  of  lone  islands 
where  seals  lurk  and  sea  birds  clamor,  are 
merely  parts  of  the  great  whole.  All  the  oceans 
are  one.  North  or  south  of  the  line,  at  the 
equator  or  at  the  poles,  around  Iceland  or 
around  Formosa  there  is  but  the  one  water. 
And  up  and  down  the  vast  expanse,  every- 
where over  its  shining  surface,  with  summer 
suns  and  rosy  atmospheres,  there  spreads  the 
violet  light,  the  pearly  color,  of  the  Oriental 
stone.  Therefore  I  ask  again:  Why  not  the 
Opal  Sea? 

John  C.  Van  Dyke. 
Ragusa,  Dalmatia. 


CONTENTS 

Chapter  I.  The  Discovery. — Early  fear  of  the  sea — 
Sea  tales — The  phantom  ship — The  maelstrom — Cities 
under  the  sea — Fortune  seekers — Sea-rovers  and  sea- 
lovers — First  coasters — Hebrews,  Tyrians  and  Sidonians 
— Phcenician  voyagers — Greek  traders — Galleys  of  Car- 
thage and  Rome— Rise  of  Islam — Renaissance  com- 
merce— Venice  at  its  height — Skirting  the  Atlantic — 
Baltic  and  Icelandic  voyages — The  Western  Ocean — 
Columbus  and  his  courage — The  new  world — Balboa 
and  the  Pacific — Magellan  and  the  extent  of  the  sea — 
The  vast  Pacific — Exploration  and  conquest — Geo- 
graphical limits  of  the  sea — Scientific  study  of  the  sea — 
The  original  element — Forming  of  the  sea  bed — Origin 
of  life  in  the  sea — The  organic  in  the  inorganic — Michelet 
and  the  evolutionists — Mucus  and  protoplasm — The  un- 
thinking sea — Life  and  death — The  sea's  indifference  to 
man — Wrecks  of  ships  and  empires — Repose  of  the 
sea — Beauty  of  the  sea 1 

Chapter  II.  Swirls  of  the  Sea. — Currents  in  the  ocean 
— Extent  of  land  and  water — Sea  level — Disturbances 
of  level — Effect  of  earth's  attraction — The  swelling  sea 
— The  tides — Cause  of  tides — Attraction  of  the  moon — 
High  and  low  tides — Spring  and  neap  tides — Western 
tide  wave — How  it  travels — Its  height — Wedged  water 

ix 


CONTENTS 


—Tide  in  inland  seas— The  Norwegian  maelstrom — 
Scylla  and  CharybdiG — Races  and  whirlpools — Bores 
of  Colorado  and  Amazon— Tidal  waves — Great  waves 
in  Pacific — Krakatoa — Waves  from  its  explosion — 
Travel  of  waves — Undulation  and  drift  of  water — 
Ocean  currents — The  Gulf  Stream — Japanese  current — 
Variations  of  currents — Early  beliefs  about  currents — 
Franklin  and  Maury — Trade  Winds— Ocean  currents 
following  winds — Circulation  of  seas — Exchange  of 
currents — Exchange  in  Red  Sea  and  Mediterranean — 
Difference  in  temperature  a  cause  of  circulation— Swirls 
and  rings  of  the  sea — Swirls  of  the  air — Life-giving 
properties  of  change — Swirl  of  the  solar  system — The 
Milky  Way  a  Sargasso  Sea — ^The  search  for  truth . .     24 

Chapter  III.  In  the  Depths. — Surface  effect  of 
storms — Shallowness  of  currents — Depth  of  tides  and 
tide  theories — Stillness  of  ocean  depths — Darkness  of 
depths— In  the  pit — Intense  cold  of  under  waters — 
Ocean  temperatures — The  sea  bed — Mountains  in  the 
sea — Volcanic  and  coralline  formations — Pot-holes  and 
chasms — Sea  troughs — Sinks  of  ooze — Shore  beds  and 
their  bottoms — Shore  benches— Haunts  of  the  octopus 
— Make-up  of  sea  muds — Terrigenous  deposits — Glacial 
ooze — Volcanic  dust — Abysmal  deposits — Pteropod 
ooze — Globigerina  and  Radiolarian  oozes — Red  Clay — 
Contents  of  sea  pits — Deep-sea  records — Ocean  trans- 
parency— Clearness  of  Mediterranean,  Carribean,  and 
Pacific— Bottom  reflections — Muddy  bottoms— Mineral 
stains — Sea  sawdust — Gulf  Stream  coloring — Local  sea 
color — Salt  particles  in  water— Effect  of  blue  sky- 
Salinity  and  its  effect — Coloring  by  depth — Beauty  of 
sea  color — Temperature  as  a  factor — Color  local  and 
reflected ^^ 


CONTENTS  XI 

Chapter  IV.  The  Great  Mirror.— Solomon's  Brazen 
Sea — Roundness  of  the  sea  circle — Ship  the  center  of 
circle — Rise-up  of  the  horizon — Bowls  of  blue — Sea 
illusions — Limitless  space — The  two  blues — Color  as 
known  to  the  ancients — The  sea  mirror^The  darker 
image — Shadows  on  water — Reflections  in  ruffled  seas — 
The  sea  under  cloud  light — Reflections  in  shadowed 
spaces — Light  and  color  from  sky — Sunset  in  the  water 
— Muddy  waters  as  reflectors — Effect  of  temperature 
on  color — Color  at  poles  and  tropics — The  opal  sea — 
Silver  grays  and  twilight  purples — ^The  Mediterranean 
— The  Dalmatian  coast — At  Spalato  and  Ragusa — 
Opalescent  air  and  sea — Sea  in  early  morning  on  Gulf 
of  Corinth — Mount  Parnassus — ^In  the  Cyclades — Sap- 
phire waters — Opal  seas  in  many  latitudes — Coast  of 
Mexico — Cold  colors  in  tropics — Quality  of  light — Dif- 
ferent tones — Dawn  at  sea — Spread  of  light — On  ruffled 
seas — Coloring  of  sea  at  mid-day — Sunset  colorings  in 
water — Eastward  lying  waters  at  sunset — Moonlight 
on  sea — The  Angelus  hour — The  Angels  Pathway — Our 
place  in  nature — Starlight  on  the  sea— Guiding  stars 
— Dark  windless  nights — ^The  Blue  Bowl 70 

Chapter  V.  Ocean  Plains. — Continuity  of  the  sea 
— Its  endvirance— The  Pacific  from  Mexico — Southern 
Ocean — Unexplored  waters — Looking  seaward  from 
Mexican  highlands — Ocean  swells  and  their  movements 
— Glassy  surfaces — Region  of  Trade  Winds — Surface 
movements — Modern  ships  and  sea  travel — The  ship's 
furrow — Whiteness  of  foam — Crests  of  foam— Colored 
crests — Wave  crests  at  night — Flung  spray — Rainbows 
— The  ship's  wake  and  its  silver  light — Phosphorescent 
light — Fields  of  animalculoe — St.  Elmo's  Light — Sea 
mirage— Fata  morgana — The  ship  in  the  air— EfiVcls 


Xli  CONTENTS 

of  mist — White  horizons — The  mist  veil  and  color- 
beauty — Lunar  rainbows — Summer  nights  on  the  ^Egean 
— Fogs  at  sea — Black  fog — Fog  effects — Icebergs  and 
their  color — Forms  of  bergs — Polar  ice-fields— Snow  at 
sea— Falling  rain— Driving  rain — Water  spouts — Spouts, 
how  formed — Evening  light  after  rain — Land  in  sight 
— Appearance  of  land — Approach  to  the  shore — Lagoon 
islands — Pacific  islands — Coral  groups — Romance  of 
the  South  Sea  islands — Concerning  happiness 95 

Chapter  VL  The  Wind's  Will— The  disturbing 
winds — Skin  of  water  drops — Covering  of  sea-surface — 
Stretching  and  breaking  of  covering — Ruffled  seas — Sea 
before  storm — Choppy  sea — White  caps — How  they 
break — White  caps  to  the  swimmer — Waves  with  a  half 
gale — Storm  waves — Cyclones  and  thunder  storms  at 
sea — The  "  northeaster  " — Spume  and  water  dust — 
Flying  scud — Stormy  seas  from  the  cross-trees — Color 
of  stormy  sea — Forms  of  waves — Grace  of  waves — 
"Waves  mountain  high" — Wave  heights — Wind  in 
English  Channel — Along  coast  of  Holland — Night 
with  storm  on  North  Sea^Drive  of  the  wind — Storm 
in  the  Roaring  Forties — "Gray-back"  waves — Sailing 
vessels  in  heavy  seas — Plunge  of  the  ocean-liner — A 
great  storm  on  the  New  England  coast — How  it  begins 
— Rain,  wind  and  rising  surge — ^The  great  seas — The 
white-ridged  ocean — Sea-gray  coloring — Lighthouse 
and  bell-buoy — The  pound  of  waves — The  subsidence — 
Wrecks  and  wreckers— The  victim — Flotsam  of  the 
wave — A  sea  horror — Tragedies  of  the  sea 119 

Chapter  VIL  The  Wave's  Tooth.— Sea,  barriers— 
The  cliff  wall— The  blow  of  the  wave  on  the  cliff— Foun- 
dation-walls   in    deep    water— The    shelving    shore — 


CONTENTS  Xin 


Friction  of  incoming  waves — The  break  and  recession 
of  waves — Height  of  storm  waves  along  shelving  shores 
— Bell  Light  and  Eddystone — The  impact  of  waves — 
Destruction  of  cliffs,  shores,  and  islands — Gnaw  of  the 
wave's  tooth — Grit  in  sea  water — Wear  along  cliffs — 
Bowlders  at  cliff  base — Fate  of  the  bowlders — Soft 
parts  of  cliff  worn  first — Spouting  horns — Wave  grottoes 
— Ocean  caves — Within  the  caves — Weird  lights  and 
colors — Fiords— Victor  Hugo's  Lysefiord — Bays  and 
promontories,  how  made — Towers  along  shore — Reefs 
and  sunken  rocks — The  ground-down  sands — Bars  and 
necks  of  land— Lagoons  and  islands — Marsh  lands — 
Islands  lost  in  storms — The  Louisiana  coast — Give  and 
take  of  land  and  sea — Return  of  the  sands  from  the  sea 
— Sand  driftings  and  dunes — Dykes  and  dunes  as  sea 
barriers — North  Sea  flooding  Holland — Traveling  sands 
— Villages  destroyed  by  sands — Sahara  sands — The  sea 
at  the  foot  of  the  cliff 141 

Chapter  VIII.  Sounding  Shores. — Footprints  of 
the  sea — Dover  Cliff  and  Sandwich  beach — Old  town  of 
Sandwich — The  meadows — Gray  waters  of  the  shore — 
Goodwin  Sands  and  its  wrecks — The  wet  beach — Half 
submerged  flats  of  sand — Gray  harmonies — Somber 
colors  of  North  Sea — The  Scottish  coast  of  Sutherland- 
Central  American  beaches — Glitter  and  litter  of  the 
shore — Singing  sands — Crescent  beaches — Irregular 
beaches  of  stone  and  gravel — Strewn  on  the  sands — 
Shell  beaches — White  sands — Waves  on  the  beach — 
Beach  combers — Forms  of  breaking  waves — Grace  of 
water  movement — Color  of  waves — Water  mirrors  on 
the  beach — Reflection  of  mirrors — Retreat  of  the  water 
— Wave  traceries  on  sand — Color  of  shore — Light  effects 
and    shore   reflections — Moonlight   along   shore — Noc- 


XIV  CONTENTS 

turnes — Sound  of  the  sea  on  the  beach — Other  sounds 
in  nature — Recurrent  beating  of  the  sea — Suggestion 
of  the  sound^ — Science  and  sentiment 160 

Chapter  IX.  Gardens  of  the  Sea. — Growths  of  the 
sea  different  from  those  of  the  land — Conditions  and 
place  of  growth — Peculiar  adaptation — Strength  and 
fitness  of  sea  weeds — Grace  of  sea  weeds — Swaying  rock 
weeds — Patterned  forms — Algae  of  the  greater  depths 
• — Extent  of  sea  gardens — Growths  along  shore — 
Popular  classifications — Green  algse — Blooms  and  net 
weeds — Blue-green  and  brown  algae — Kelp  and  rock 
weed — Red  algae — Dulses  and  mosses — "Flower- 
animals" — The  plant  likeness  superficial — Marvels  of 
design  and  color — Great  variety  of  sea  life — One-celled 
life— Sponges,  their  kinds  and  colors — Polyps — Sea 
anemones  and  corals — Coral  colors  and  reefs — Jelly 
fishes — Sea-nettles — Medusoid  types — Living  ribbons 
and  necklaces — Sea  urchins — Star  fishes — Brittle  stars 
— Sea  lilies  and  stone  lilies — Holothurians — Sea  cu- 
cumbers— Shell  fish — Univalves  and  bivalves — Conches, 
oysters,  clams — Scallops  and  cockles — Cephalopods — • 
The  pearly  nautilus — The  octopus — Size  and  equipment 
of  the  octopus— Crabs,  lobsters,  and  barnacles — Their 
hard  shells,  how  formed — Their  defense  and  attack — 
Color  of  sea  life — Sea  gardens  in  Mexican  Gulf — Seen 
through  a  water  glass — Tropical  fishes — Red  snappers, 
pompanos,  sharks,  porpoises — The  chase  and  death — 
Changes  in  sea  life — Testimony  of  the  rock — Nature 
maintaining  the  status  quo 177 

Chapter  X.  Dwellers  in  the  Deep. — Marine  life  in 
the  great  depths — Problem  of  light — Phosphorescence 
and  luminescence — The  violet  rays — Other  lights  in 


CONTENTS  XV 

the  depths — Plankton — Lantern  fishes  with  photo- 
phores — Grotesque  quality  of  deep  sea  fishes^Oceanic 
pressure — Effect  on  fishes — Peculiar  design  of  sea  fishes 
— Voracious  appetites — Defense  and  attack — The 
dismal  existence — Coloring  of  bottom  fishes — Surface 
fishes — ^The  bluefish — Herrings  and  porpoises — Men- 
haden and  mackerels — Movement  of  the  schools — 
Flying  fish — How  they  fly — Vibration  and  sailing — 
Chased  by  the  albicore — The  capture — Bird  enemies 
— ^The  coryphene — Swiftness  of  porpoises — Speed  of 
the  sea  rovers — Fitness  to  their  element — Tarpons  and 
tunas — Coloring  of  school  fishes — Protective  colorings 
— Changeable  colorings — Coloring  of  the  mackerels  and 
coryphenes — ^The  whales  and  their  colorings — Enemies 
of  the  whale — The  sea  turtle — Seals — ^Their  habits  and 
growth— Killed  for  their  beauty — All  sea  life  destroy- 
ing and  is  destroyed — Endurance  of  the  type — What 
lies  beyond 202 

Chapter  XI.  Gray  Wings. — The  sea  as  the  source 
of  all — Sea  birds  and  their  voracity — The  pelicans — 
The  cormorants,  shags,  and  divers — Chasing  fish  under 
water — Penguins,  auks,  and  puffins — Long-legged 
waders — Flamingoes — The  scarlet  ibis — Storks — Danc- 
ing cranes — Shore  birds — Turnstones  and  sand  pipers — 
Sand  pipers  lost  at  sea — Finches  and  warblers  in  the 
shrouds  of  the  ship— Land  birds  at  sea — Equipment 
of  the  true  sea  wanderer — Muscling  and  feathering  of 
sea  birds — Enormous  endurance — Gray  coloring  of  sea 
birds — ^Tems,  gulls,  and  their  flight — How  gulls  live — 
The  frigate  bird — The  wonderful  sailer — A  sea  pirate — 
Catching  flying  fish — Frigate  bird's  bad  reputation — His 
fitness  for  long  flight — The  wandering  albatross — Flight 
feathers  of  the  albatross — His  sailing  qualities — Where 


XVI  CONTENTS 

he  lives — The  tropic  bird — His  steering  gear — Cape 
pigeons  and  whale  birds— Wilson's  petrel — The  stormy 
petrel — Flight  of  the  petrel — The  untiring  wing — Self 
reliance  of  the  petrel — Joy  in  adversity — Persistence 
of  life — Omnipresent  energy — Fitness  and  beauty — 
Gray  Wings  a  part  of  the  plan 223 

Chapter  XII.  Ships  that  Pass. — Coming  down  to 
the  sea — The  native  element — Emotions  by  the  sea — 
The  sail — The  disappearing  ship — Watchers  of  ships — 
Ships  that  have  passed — The  butterflies  of  commerce 
— The  harbor  to-day — White  wings  and  gray  wings — 
The  full-rigged  ship— Colors  of  her  sails — A  white  yacht- 
ing squadron — Colored  sails  of  the  Adriatic — Venetian 
fishing  boats — The  ocean  steamer — The  steamer  putting 
to  sea — The  power  of  steam — ^The  steady  drive  forward 
— Steaming  through  storm — ^The  persistent  engines — 
The  picturesque  ship  at  sea — ^The  battle-ship  and  our 
point  of  view — The  common  resting  place  of  ships — 
Tragedies  of  the  sea — ^The  sea  not  "rapacious" — Grim 
sea  tales  furnished  by  men — The  real  "horror"  of  the 
sea — ^The  quest  of  gold  and  its  results — Hardships  of 
the  explorers — Searching  for  gold  at  the  north — 
Sunken  treasures — Race  hatred  on  the  sea — The  early 
carriers  and  merchantmen — Ocean  liners  of  to-day — 
Growing  appreciation  of  sea  beauty — Atlantic  crossings 
— The  supreme  element — A  false  view — ^The  lure  of  the 
eea — The  suicide — Neither  life  nor  the  sea  always 
etorm-tossed — Maintenance  of  life — The  sea  the  last  to 
go — New  eyes  opening  to  the  light — ^The  beauty  that 
shall  be 244 


THE  OPAL  SEA 


THE   OPAL  SEA 


CHAPTEE    I 


THE  DISCOVERY 

A  FEAR  of  the  sea  was  from  the  beginning. 
The  early  tribes  that  far  back  in  the  dawn  of 
history  dwelt  by  the  eastern  shores  of  the 
Mediterranean  knew  that  fear.  A  great  awe 
filled  them  as  from  shore  and  promontory  they 
looked  outward  to  the  meeting-place  of  sea  and 
sky.  The  western  waves  came  beating  in  under 
the  cliffs,  surge  following  surge  endlessly;  but 
whence  came  they?  Beyond  the  distant  line 
all  was  mystery.  No  dark  wings  of  ships,  only 
the  flame  wings  of  the  morning,  had  traveled 
there.  The  deep  wrapped  the  earth  on  every 
side.  The  wise  ones  taught  that  the  sun,  moon, 
and  stars  rose  out  of  it,  and  descended  into  it 
again;  that  it  had  once  flooded  all  the  land; 
that  it  was  the  infinite  out  of  which  all  things 
came  and  back  to  which  all  things  would  return. 
No  one  could  measure  its  extent;  no  one  but 
felt   its   power   to   destroy.     The   little   world 


The  early 
jear. 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


lifted,  island-like,  above  an  unknown  waste; 
and  man  was  no  more  than  a  shipwrecked  sailor 
clinging  to  a  scrap  of  rock. 

When  more  familiar  growoi  and  many  sails 
sank  and  rose  along  the  horizon  rim,  the  stories 
brought  up  from  below  the  verge  but  added  to 
its  terrors.  Beyond  the  Pillars  of  Hercules 
there  was  a  great  wilderness  of  water 


Tales  of  the 
sea. 


"  Which  birds  travel  not  within  a  year, 
So  vast  it  is  and  fearful." 


The  phan- 
tom ship. 


Nothing  but  water — water  that  could  not  be 
drunk  by  man  or  beast.  Far  to  the  south 
under  a  burning  tropic  sun,  great  calms  spread 
over  a  glas-sy  sea  and  there,  caught  in  the 
silent  web  of  heat,  ships  rolled  listlessly  upon 
the  lazy  swell  and  starving  crews  hauled  and 
heaved  and  set  sails  that  never  filled,  never 
caught  a  breath  of  air.  No  breeze  to  stir,  no 
drop  of  rain  to  save — naught  but  the  hot  air  to 
wither  and  the  blazing  sunlight  to  bleach.  Be- 
yond the  region  of  calms,  from  an  unknown  sea 
still  farther  to  the  south — so  the  tale  ran — 
came  the  phantom  ship  that  always  sailed  on 
the  edge  of  a  storm  and  was  an  omen  of  evil  to 
come.  It  never  came  into  port,  it  was  only  an 
uneasy  ghost  sinking  and  reappearing  along 
the  misty  horizon;  but  it  filled  the  mariner's 


THE   DISCOVERY 


soul  with  fear  and  added  another  haunting 
mystery  to  the  sea. 

At  the  north  were  terrors,  more  real  perhaps, 
and  quite  as  fearsome.  Snow  and  ice  encom- 
passed and  wind  overpowered.  In  the  great 
storms  there  were  waves  that  rose  from  out 
the  hollows  of  the  sea,  beating  and  breaking 
the  stoutest  timbers  and  sending  ships  stagger- 
ing downward  to  their  ocean  grave  with  sails 
still  set  and  hands  still  clinging  to  the  rigging. 
And  there,  too,  was  the  great  maelstrom  com- 
pared with  which  Scylla  and  Charybdis  were 
mere  eddies.  Hundreds  of  leagues  away  the 
suction  of  the  whirl  could  be  felt  upon  the  hap- 
less ship,  and  once  caught  no  crowding  on  of 
sail  or  bending  to  the  oar  could  make  head- 
way against  it.  A  monster  polyp  dwelt  there 
and  stirred  the  pool  with  waving  tentacles 
and  lived  on  human  prey.  Around  him  on  the 
deep  sea-floor  were  spar  and  rib  and  anchor, 
hulks  of  ships  and  dead  men's  bones  and  jewels 
gleaming  out  of  hollow  e3'es. 

Not  there  nor  elsewhere  was  tlie  bottom  of 
the  sea  a  longed-for  dwelling-place.  In  the 
still  Mediterranean  men  had  noticed  far  down 
through  the  clear  water  the  coral  mounds,  the 
sea-forests,  and  the  flat  valleys  of  ooze.  And 
strange  tales  were  told  of  voiceless  cities  that 


The  great 
nuielstroiii 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Cities  xinder 
the  sea. 


Forttme 
seekers. 


had  been  seen  beneath  the  wave,  of  silent  pal- 
aces with  towers  and  walls  and  blue-green 
grottoes  all  tenantless  save  to  the  soft  flooding 
of  the  under-ciirrents.  Nothing  lived  or  moved 
there  but  the  monsters  of  the  deep.  It  was  a 
kino'dom  of  silence,  a  realm  of  the  dead.  So 
deep-rooted  was  this  belief  that  the  very  name, 
"  mare,"  came  to  suggest  the  shores  of  the  abode 
of  the  dead.  It  was  not  to  be  wondered  at  that 
with  such  weird  whisperings  the  sea  should 
seem  a   fear-compelling  place. 

Yet  with  all  the  dread  of  the  great  waste, 
with  all  the  danger,  there  was  a  glamour  about 
it  that  drew  men  on.  Ships  sailed  away  and 
never  came  back,  but  others  took  their  place. 
Fame  and  fortune  were  alluring  prizes.  Be- 
yond the  Pillars  were  the  "  Western  Islands " 
where  no  snow  or  cold  ever  fell,  where  the 
meadows  and  uplands  surpassed  the  Garden  of 
the  Hesperides  and  the  sands  of  the  shore  glit- 
tered with  gold.  Wealth  and  empire  danced  in 
the  sailor's  brain.  Where  the  rainbow  rested, 
at  the  end  of  the  earth,  there  lay  the  crown  and 
the  treasure.  Others  there  were — visionaries, 
adventurers,  sea-rovers — who  with  no  great  love 
of  possessions,  still  felt  drawn  to  the  sea.  No 
matter  how  frightfully  she  buffeted  the  earth- 
children,    nor    how    violently    she    cast    them 


THE   DISCOVERY 


5 


forth  upon  the  land,  they  always  came  trooping 
back  to  her.  Many  times  that  fateful  man, 
Ulysses,  suffered  shipwreck  and  dire  disaster; 
yet  still  he  "  languished  for  the  purple  seas." 
The  pathway  was  dangerous — the  Greek  epics 
keep  calling  it  the  "  shadowy,"  the  "  black," 
the  "treacherous";  and  the  Hebrew  books  the 
"  noisy,"  the  "  roaring,"  the  "  raging  " — but 
still  men  ventured  along  it.  It  was  a  dream  to 
the  explorer,  a  means  of  gain  to  the  trader,  a 
refuge  to  the  robber;  and  so  the  boats  kept 
reaching  farther  seaward  from  port  and  cape 
to  headland  and  island ;  and  year  by  year  more 
sails  appeared  flecking  the  floor  of  blue. 

But  many  centuries  were  to  elapse  before  men 
came  and  went  freely  along  the  ocean  high- 
ways. The  fear  of  the  wave  kept  them  back; 
the  lure  of  the  wave  drew  them  on.  How  tim- 
idly and  awkwardly  the  pre-Homeric  traders 
coasted  the  eastern  end  of  the  Mediterranean ! 
No  one  knows  if  the  Chaldseo- Assyrians  and  the 
Egyptians  did  even  that  much.  They  may 
have  achieved  no  more  than  the  navigation  of 
their  own  rivers.  As  for  the  Israelites,  the  sea 
was  always  a  barrier  to  them,  never  a  highway. 
They  had  ports  in  the  Eed  Sea  and  carried  on 
an  Oriental  trade  to  be  sure,  but  not  without 
Tyrian  and  Sidonian  help.    The  Bool'  of  Kings 


Sea-rovera 
and  sea- 
lovers. 


The  first 
coasters. 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Hehreirs, 
Tynans 
and 
Sidoniana. 


keeps  the  record  that :  "  King  Solomon  made  a 
navy  of  ships  at  Ezion-geber  which  is  beside 
Eloth,  on  the  shore  of  the  Ked  Sea  in  the  land 
of  Edom.  And  Hiram  (of  Tyre)  sent  in  the 
navy  his  servants,  shipmen  that  had  knowledge 
of  the  sea,  with  the  servants  of  Solomon.  And 
they  came  to  Ophir  and  fetched  from  thence 
gold,  four  hundred  and  twenty  talents,  and 
brought  it  to  King  Solomon."  But  Ezion- 
geber,  where  the  ships  of  Jehoshaphat  were 
broken,  was  not  on  the  Mediterranean;  and 
Ophir  is  variously  supposed  to  be  on  the  coast 
of  Arabia  near  the  Gulf  of  Oman  or  in  Farther 
India  or  possibly  in  Eastern  Africa.  In  other 
words,  the  voyages  were  along  the  coast,  not 
on  the  open  ocean  plains.  In  this  respect  they 
were  quite  different  from  those  of  Hiram  and 
his  predecessors. 

What  first  started  the  early  Phoenicians  to 
the  West  may  only  be  conjectured.  From  the 
hills  of  southern  Lebanon  at  sunset  one  can 
see  the  black  peak  of  Troodos  on  the  island 
of  Cyprus,  resting  hazily  against  the  evening 
sky;  and  perhaps  this  distant  mountain  sug- 
gested the  first  flight  of  the  voyagers.  Once 
at  Cyprus  it  was  easy  enough  to  move  on  to 
Rhodes  and  Crete  and  from  thence  to  the  is- 
lands  of   the   Greek   Archipelago,   or   by   the 


Phcenidan 
voyagers. 


THE   DISCOVEEY 


northern  shores  of  Africa  to  Malta,  Sicily,  Sar- 
dinia, Massilia  and  Tarshish  in  Spain. 

After  the  first  ships  of  Phanicia  had  trav- 
ersed the  seas  of  the  West  there  were  plenty  of 
less  courageous  sails  to  follow  in  the  wake. 
The  spirit  of  navigation  grew  apace.  Soon 
every  rock-bound  Ithaca  had  its  fishing  fleet 
and  navy,  and  in  extending  its  dominions  ex- 
tended discovery.  From  Lydia,  Caria,  Phrygia 
and  the  far  Cimmerian  Bosphorus,  from  the 
islands  of  the  -^gean  and  the  shores  of  the 
Greek  mainland,  the  black  ships  of  traders 
drove  down  the  wine-dark  seas.  Westward  the 
courses  lay.  Centuries  before  the  Christian 
era  there  were  sails  from  Tyre  and  Sidon 
skimming  along  the  North  African  and  Sicilian 
coasts,  passing  through  the  Tyrrhenian  Sea, 
passing  out  through  the  Pillars,  and  up  the 
coast  to  the  gray  waters  of  the  English  Chan- 
nel. It  was  not  long  before  the  great  Phoeni- 
cian colony,  Carthage,  rose  to  power.  Her 
merchantmen  went  hither  and  thither  to  dis- 
tant countries  and  under  Hanno  (500  B.C.)  her 
galleys  darkened  the  uninhabited  waters  of 
western  Africa.  In  the  after-time,  burdened 
with  produce  from  the  Ganges  and  the  Nile, 
hundreds  of  sails  were  moving  toward  Rome. 
Long  before  the  sea  struggle  at  Actium,  the 


Greek 
traders. 


Galleys    of 
Carthage 
and  Rome. 


8 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  rise  of 
Islam. 


Renais- 
aa  nee  com- 
7nerce. 


Mediterranean  had  known  its  rider;  and  long 
before  the  Caesars  passed  away  a  shrewd  knowl- 
edge of  navigation  had  been  attained. 

Then  followed  that  period  of  history  known 
as  the  Dark  Ages  when  human  energy  seemed 
crushed  under  the  ruins  of  Eome,  and  civiliza- 
tion for  centuries  lay  still  in  a  long  swoon. 
The  Goth  ruled  all  the  western  shores  of  the 
Mediterranean  but  with  no  love  for  the  sea; 
and  the  Eastern  Empire  was  too  badly  crip- 
pled to  battle  successfully  in  hollow  ships 
against  Homeric  elements.  But  a  stronger 
power  was  rising  in  the  East  and  moving  west- 
ward like  a  tidal  wave.  Year  by  year  the  Mos- 
lem Empire  spread  until  it  embraced  Syria, 
Egypt,  the  northern  shores  of  Africa,  Sicily, 
Sardinia,  and  Spain.  The  star  and  the  crescent 
were  in  the  ascendant,  and  Islam  dominated 
the  realm  of  waters  as  it  did  the  realm  of 
thought. 

Slowly  Europe  roused  from  her  long  stupor. 
The  old  trade  with  the  Orient  was  resumed  and 
the  colored  sails  of  Italy  went  drifting  along 
the  Dalmatian  coast  and  through  the  Greek 
islands  to  the  East.  The  courts  of  Europe 
had  groMTi  luxurious  in  a  barbaric  way;  and 
Venice,  Florence,  and  Genoa  were  supplying 
tliem  with  silks,  stuffs,  spices,  perfumes,  jew- 


THE   DISCOVERY 


9 


els,  glass,  from  Araby  and  India.  The  gla- 
mour of  the  East  and  the  religious  fervor  of 
the  West  got  into  the  brain  and  long  files  of 
crusaders,  knights,  warriors,  adventurers  came 
trooping  to  the  Italian  shores  demanding  trans- 
portation to  the  land  of  the  Infidel.  When 
that  mad  struggle  was  over  there  came  the 
long  quarrels  between  Venice  and  Constanti- 
nople, the  bloody  encounters  with  Dalmatian 
pirates,  the  sea  fights  between  the  Genoese  and 
the  Venetians — all  of  them  broken  by  many 
years  of  comparative  peace  and  prosperity. 
Glorious  days  of  sea  triumph  were  those  when 
the  Doge  went  forth  in  the  gilded  Bucentaur 
to  wed  the  Adriatic,  when  hundreds  of  argosies 
were  tossing  on  the  Mediterranean,  and  Vene- 
tian war  galleys  came  and  went  in  flocks 
that  covered  the  seas !  At  its  height  the  island 
city  floated  over  three  thousand  merchantmen; 
Genoa  was  no  mean  second ;  and  Pisa,  Eome, 
Eavenna — all  the  coast  towns  of  the  peninsula 
— had  the':  ships  in  the  carrying  trade.  Wher- 
ever a  harbor  offered  and  a  town  grew  there 
the  fleets  of  Italy  cast  anchor.  And  one  by 
one  each  indentation  in  the  coast  came  to  be 
known  and  found  its  way  upon  the  maps. 

But,  again,  all  this  was  skirting  the  shore  or 
following  M'ell -traveled  roads  of  the  sea  from 


TVwiVc  at 
its  height 
of  power. 


10 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Skirting  the 
Atlantic. 


one  port  to  another.  It  was  navigation  on  an 
inland  basin  where  the  promontories,  capes, 
reefs,  and  islands  were  well  known.  Beyond  the 
land-locked  Mediterranean  the  voyages  were 
less  frequent.  True  enough,  the  early  Phoeni- 
cians had  passed  through  the  Straits  and  had 
found  their  way,  "  through  the  misty  sea  of 
darkness  lying  under  the  Bear,  who  alone  is 
never  bathed  in  the  ocean,"  to  England.  Later 
on  the  Massilians  had  ventured  farther  into 
the  North  Sea  in  search  of  furs  and  amber; 
and  the  Romans  had  reached  the  far  Baltic. 
The  Western  Islands  were  known,  there  had 
been  explorations  down  the  coast  of  Africa, 
and,  though  the  Mediterranean  people  knew 
it  not,  the  Northmen  had  sailed  in  their  open 
boats  to  Iceland,  Greenland,  and  thence  on 
down  the  American  coast.  But  no  European 
of  the  Continent  as  yet  knew  the  western 
shores  of  the  Atlantic  or  so  much  as  dreamed 
of  the  vast  new  world. 

How  very  strange  that  after  centuries  of 
association  the  knowledge  of  the  sea's  ex- 
tent should  have  been  so  limited !  The  earth 
was  round  in  spite  of  what  the  Papacy  might 
think  and  many  navigators  believed  it  in  the- 
ory; but  where  was  the  heroic  soul  to  put  it 
to  the  proof !    And  was  it  a  round  of  earth  or 


Voyages  to 
the  Baltic, 
Iceland, 
Greenland. 


THE  DISCOVERY 


11 


merely  endless  water?  There  were  whispers 
of  a  vast  sea  to  the  west  where  ships,  entrapped 
in  fields  of  sea  weed — caught  like  flies  within 
a  mesh — could  neither  go  forward  nor  back- 
ward, but  perished  miserably.  Was  all  the 
waste  where  the  sun  went  down  of  that  com- 
plexion? No  one  knew;  no  one  could  say. 
And  no  one  cared  to  be  the  first  to  venture. 
The  sea  had  grown  familiar  since  Phoenician 
days,  but  it  still  had  its  terrors. 

At  last  Columbus !  Whatever  else  he  was  or 
was  not,  however  just  the  criticisms  of  those 
scientific  historians  who  would  read  flaws  in 
his  title  to  fame,  at  least  he  was  no  coward. 
He  put  courage  in  his  purse  the  day  he  faced 
the  western  ocean.  Calmly  he  sailed  beyond 
the  "  Blessed  Islands "  of  the  Greeks,  beyond 
"  the  extremities  of  the  West  and  East "  of 
Aratus,  beyond  "  the  green  earth's  utmost 
bounds  "  of  Homer.  He  did  not  know  what 
perils  might  confront  him.  Dangers  of  tem- 
pest, of  maelstrom,  of  evil  spirits,  of  the 
world's  ending-place  were  about  him;  but  he 
held  his  course.  The  Sargasso  Sea  enmeshed 
him,  his  guiding  stars  forsook  him,  his  com- 
pass apparently  swerved  from  the  pole,  his  crew 
grew  mutinous;  but  he  would  not  turn  back. 
Ah !  the  supreme  fortitude  of  that  man  sailing 


Tales  of  the 

Western 

Ocean. 


First  voyage 
of    Colum- 
bus. 


Courape of 
Columbus. 


12 


THE  OPAL   SEA 


The  new 
world. 


Balboa  and 
the  Pacific. 


week  after  week  into  the  unknown  with  nothing 
to  support  him  but  his  own  stout  heart ! 

Success  came  when  defeat  was  almost  an 
accomplished  fact.  A  new  world  had  been  dis- 
covered and  given  to  Castile  and  Leon,  but 
Columbus  never  for  a  moment  imagined  it  was 
anything  other  than  the  western  portion  of  the 
old  world.  The  most  that  he  sought  was  a 
shorter  route  to  India  by  way  of  China.  He 
thought  he  had  discovered  the  outlying  islands 
of  Asia.  No  one  had  so  much  as  imagined  the 
presence  of  the  two  Americas  or  the  infinity 
of  waters  that  far  beyond  reached  to  the  sun- 
set lands  of  Cathay. 

A  few  years  later  what  must  have  been  Bal- 
boa's wonder 

"when  with  eagle  eyes 

He  stared  at  the  Pacific — and  all  his  men 
Looked  at  each  other  with  a  wild  surmise 

Silent,  upon  a  peak  in  Darien." 

The  Pacific  was  before  him — the  Pacific,  whose 
farthest  limits  are  mystery  even  to  this  day, 
lay  shimmering  in  the  sunshine.  It  would  be 
strange,  indeed,  if  such  a  sight  had  not  given 
him  pause.  There  is  that  in  immensity  which 
commands  respect  and  something  in  vast  ex- 
panses of  light  and  color  that  makes  for  rever- 
ence.   Certain  it  is  that  if  one  have  any  finer 


THE  DISCOVERT 


13 


feeling  in  his  soul,  it  will  come  bubbling  to  the 
surface  when  he  sees  for  the  first  time  the 
Pacific.  The  discoverers  were  men  of  iron,  but 
they  were  moved.  Balboa  wading  waist  deep 
into  the  water,  sword  and  shield  in  hand,  and 
claiming  the  great  sea  for  Spain — Spain  that 
to-day  can  claim  nothing  there — was  he  not 
pathetic  in  his  earnestness?  And  the  stanch 
Magellan,  he  who  after  many  struggles  finally 
burst  through  the  straits  that  bear  his  name, 
shed  tears  as  the  majestic  waters  swam  into  his 
ken.  Stout  conquerors  they  were,  but  in  the 
presence  of  the  Southern  Ocean  small  wonder 
that,  for  the  moment,  they  felt  themselves  the 
conquered. 

They  were  brothers  of  one  blood — Columbus, 
Balboa,  and  Magellan,  Courage  and  grim  de- 
termination were  theirs,  and  all  were  such  stuff 
as  heroes  are  made  of.  Once  through  the 
straits  Magellan  headed  across  the  wide  sea, 
and  nothing  could  make  him  change  his  course. 
Starvation  and  disease  went  with  him,  but  he 
never  swerved.  For  more  than  ten  thousand 
miles  he  sailed  without  knowing  if  he  should 
ever  again  see  the  mainland  rise  up  from  the 
ocean's  rim.  Three  months  and  twenty  days  he 
fought  down  fear,  and  in  all  that  time  never 
a  glimpse  of  any  land,  save  two  small  unin- 


Effeft  of  tke 
South  i^ea 
upon  H^ 
discoverers. 


Magellan 
around  the 
world. 


14 


THE  OPAL  SEA 


Extent  of 
the  sea. 


The  vast 
Pacific. 


habited  islands  !  How  often  he  must  have  been 
harrowed  by  the  thought  that  perhaps  the  the- 
ories were  wrong,  that  possibly  the  world  was 
not  round  but  an  unending  reach  of  water  upon 
which  he  had  gone  too  far  ever  to  return !  To 
be  lost  on  the  land,  in  forest  or  on  mountain,  is 
discouraging  enough ;  but  to  be  lost  on  the  Pa- 
cific, in  1530 — that  is  quite  another  affair. 

Eratosthenes  was  right;  the  earth  was  a 
globe.  But  what  philosopher  ever  imagined 
that  it  was  so  large !  Homer  was  right  when 
he  sang  of  the  "  mighty  flood,"  but  he  was 
thinking  of  the  insignificant  Mediterranean. 
What  poet  had  imagination  enough  to  picture 
the  vastness  of  the  Pacific  !  Many  had  surmised 
the  truth  but  none  had  realized  its  extent. 
When  the  caravels  of  Columbus  had  sailed  and 
returned  the  wise  ones  of  the  Kenaissance  were 
astonished  by  the  story  brought  home.  It 
seemed  impossible  that  there  could  be  so  much 
water.  And  still  the  girth  of  the  seas  was 
uncomprehended.  It  was  only  when  Ma- 
gellan's Santa  Vittoria  had  circumnavigated 
the  globe  and  dropped  anchor  in  the  bay  of  San 
Lucar  that  a  realization  of  the  world  of  water 
began  to  dawn.  The  Atlantic  was  astonishing 
enough  in  all  conscience;  but  the  Pacific  was 
overwhelming  and  dumbfounding. 


THE   DISCOVERY 


15 


Men  knew  at  last  whither  the  sea  led  travel- 
ing to  the  east  or  the  west;  but  toward  the 
poles  still  dwelt  mystery.  The  valorous  were 
eager  enough  to  explore  seas  and  coasts  now 
that  they  were  sure  of  finding  land  if  they  kept 
on  sailing  to  the  west.  Portuguese  carracks, 
Spanish  galleons,  English  fleets  went  scurrying 
hither  and  thither,  claiming  land  in  the  names 
of  their  sovereigns  and  fighting  with  each  other 
for  the  possession  of  what  they  could  not  hold. 
Scores  of  voyages  were  undertaken;  the  Cabots 
along  the  North  American  coast,  Pizarro  and 
Valdivia  on  the  Pacific,  Willoughby  and  Davis 
toward  the  North  Pole,  Cortereal,  Frobischer, 
Hawkins,  and  Raleigh  in  different  directions, 
on  conquest  or  discovery  bent.  At  the  south 
the  Brazilian  and  African  coasts  were  explored, 
Drake  again  circumnavigated  the  globe,  and 
with  Cook  the  South  Sea  became  better  under- 
stood. The  geographical  limits  of  the  ocean 
were  then  tentatively  fixed  upon  the  map;  and 
that  outline  has  not  been  greatly  changed  in 
these  later  days. 

Long  after  the  passing  of  the  explorers,  the 
slavers  and  the  gold  seekers,  long  after  the 
period  of  discovery  in  the  large,  came  the  sci- 
entific exploration  of  the  sea.  This  included 
not  only  the  accurate  charting  of  tlie  great 


Voi/agci  of 
ex  ploTnlion 
and  con- 
quest. 


Geograph- 
icnl  limits 
attained. 


16 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Charting  of 
the  sea. 


waters  with  their  islands,  reefs,  and  shoals, 
but  the  sounding  of  the  depths  and  the  map- 
ping of  the  ocean  bed  twenty  thousand  feet 
below  the  surface;  not  only  the  study  of  its 
winds  and  calms  but  the  movements  of  its  cur- 
rents and  the  changes  in  its  density  and  tem- 
perature. Since  the  eighteenth  century  began, 
all  features  of  the  ocean — from  its  coral  islands 
built  up  to  its  rocky  shores  pulled  down,  from 
the  glowing  equator  producing ,  the  energy  of 
the  great  sea  currents  to  the  icy  poles  whose 
chilling  streams  restore  the  equilibrium,  from 
the  tides  that  swell  the  bays  and  harbors  to 
the  evaporation  that  drinks  at  the  sea's  surface 
— have  been  pried  into  and  exploited.  As  for 
the  color  and  light  of  the  wave,  its  rise  and 
fall  and  motion,  they  are  no  longer  mysteries; 
the  flora  of  the  shallows  and  the  fauna  of  the 
depths  have  been  classified;  and  even  the 
minute  forms  of  life  that  show  only  as  phos- 
phorescence upon  the  sea's  surface  have  come 
under  the  microscope,  have  been  analyzed  and 
differentiated  in  the  laboratory. 

Apparently  all  is  known  to  us  and  the  sea 
has  no  further  secrets  to  reveal.  And  yet  in 
a  vague  way  we  feel  sure  we  are  only  on  the 
threshold  of  its  understanding.  The  story  of 
creation  becomes  more  intricate  as  we  advance. 


Scientific 
studtj  of  the 
ocean. 


THE  DISCOVERY 


17 


For  perhaps  the  sea  is  the  one  original  element 
and  out  of  it  have  come  all  the  others.  In  its 
depths  far  dowTi  in  the  chill  waters  beyond 
our  light  and  beyond  our  life,  the  rock  strata 
of  the  earth  may  have  been  molded  into  shape. 
Centuries  of  time  would  have  passed  while  the 
outworn  shells  of  sea  life  were  falling  from  the 
surface  to  the  bottom  and,  with  meteoric  iron 
and  star  dust,  forming  the  body  of  the  rock 
strata.  Centuries  again  would  have  passed 
while  the  slow-moving  water  was  rubbing  the 
strata  into  form  and  pressing  it  into  substance 
by  its  enormous  weight.  At  last,  when  its  time 
was  come,  perhaps  the  great  sea  bed  began  to 
rise.  The  lateral  pressure  of  the  earth's  crust 
forced  it  upward  inch  by  inch,  foot  by  foot, 
through  a  long  series  of  years  until  finally  the 
black  slimy  nose  of  the  bed  emerged  from 
the  water  and  became  an  island.  Another  age 
and  the  island  had  become  a  portion  of  a  con- 
tinent, and  had  baked  hard  and  dry  in  the 
sunlight.  Still  another  age  and  perhaps  the 
nose  had  lifted  into  a  mountain  ridge,  wearing 
away  by  erosion,  and  thus  finding  its  way  by 
the  rivers  back  to  its  early  home  in  the  sea.* 

*  Such  was  the  theory  of  science  only  a  few  years  ago, 
but  to-day  the  scientists  are  beginning  to  modify  this 
view  a  little  as  regards  the  abysmal  depths,  while  main- 


The  origi- 
nal element. 


Forming  of 
rock  lin/ers 
in  the  sea 
bed. 


18 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Origin  of 
life. 


The  organic 
in    the  in- 
organic. 


Not  the  dry  land  alone  but  the  life  of  the 
globe,  did  it  not  also  come  up  and  out  of  the 
sea?  Oeeanus  was  the  parent  of  the  gods. 
He  was  the  beginner,  the  original,  from  which 
all  things  sprang.  Merely  a  pretty  myth,  it 
may  be  said.  Yes,  but  myths  are  incorporated 
traditions — early  beliefs  of  mankind.  Per- 
haps there  was  a  time  when  there  was  naught 
but  the  omnipresent  sea,  circling  as  a  flashing 
ball  in  the  solar  system.  Perhaps  it  was  then 
a  mass  of  life,  and  there  was  no  inorganic  mat- 
ter existent  until  some  of  that  life  began  to 
die.  The  skeletons  of  the  dead  that  sank 
through  the  waters  and  hardened  in  a  mass  at 
the  center,  were  the  first  formed  strata  of  the 
solid  earth.  The  trail  of  the  organic  is  still 
apparent  in  the  inorganic.  Leonardo  da  Vinci 
recognized  the  sediment  of  the  sea  in  the  shell 
layers  of  the  Apennines;  and  the  blocks  of  the 
Colosseum  at  Eome,  the  pyramids  at  Ghizeh, 
still  show  these  minute  shells  under  the  micro- 
scope. The  Alps  and  the  Andes  are  but  so 
much   hardened   ocean   ash,   and   perhaps   the 

taining  the  give  and  take  of  land  and  sea  as  regards  the 
shallower  depths.  That  our  present  dry  land  was  once 
under  the  sea  is  hardly  to  be  questioned,  but  that  the 
present  deep  sea  bed  has  ever  been  thrust  up  into  land 
is  open  to  doubt. 


THE   DISCOVERY 


19 


whole  earth  is  but  the  compact  mold  of  dead 
things. 

When  Michelet  revived  this  idea  of  Thales 
that  the  sea  was  the  beginning  of  life,  that  its 
very  atmosphere,  so  to  speak,  was  an  opalescent 
mucus,  alive  and  capable  of  development  in  it- 
self, the  thought  was  considered  somewhat  fan- 
tastic ;  but  since  then  have  not  the  scientists  put 
hands  upon  this  very  conception  and  used  it 
as  an  illustration  in  argument?  Is  not  the 
opalescent  mucus  of  Michelet  the  protoplasm 
of  the  evolutionist?  And  the  sea  is  filled  with 
it.  Often  when  sailing  in  the  tropics  the 
watcher  lying  along  the  bowsprit  sees  down 
through  the  blue-green  water  drifts  and  skeins 
without  number  of  this  thin  mucilage,  reced- 
ing by  steps  into  the  abyss  and  extending  for 
many  miles  in  every  direction.  The  poles  pos- 
sess it  in  common  with  the  tropics.  The  sea 
life  lives  upon  it  and  is  perhaps  bred  from  it. 
It  is  the  lowest  form  of  life.  No  other  ele- 
ment than  water  could  produce  it  or  support  it 
in  such  quantity. 

And  yet  with  these  powers  of  life,  these  po- 
tentialities of  creation,  how  sublimely  uncon- 
scious in  its  workings  seems  the  sea!  Great 
spawns  of  life  go  out  from  it,  species  by  the 
hundreds   of   thousands;    they   disappear   like 


Michelet 
and  the 

ista. 


Mucus  and 
protoplasm. 


20 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


mists  in  the  sun,  they  reappear  like  mists;  but 
their  coming  and  their  going  are  one  and  the 
same  thing  to  the  great  Mother.  Never  has 
she  done  more  for  her  offspring  than  to  give  it 
facilities  for  existing  and  expedients  against 
sudden  death.  Each  one  of  her  children  has 
its  peculiar  adaptation  enabling  it  to  seek  and 
gather  food  and  brave  its  enemies  by  feint  or 
flight  or  breed.  But  having  once  fitted  them 
for  the  conflict  she  abandons  each  species  to  its 
fate,  leaving  it  to  live  or  die  as  it  may  or  must. 
The  equipment  of  the  flying  fish,  the  octopus, 
the  sea  lily,  the  common  kelp,  is  each  complete 
in  itself;  therefore,  let  each  work  out  its  own 
salvation  or  destruction.  Death  is  not  the  un- 
expected. All  through  the  kingdom  of  the  sea 
some  must  die  that  others  may  live.  Continu- 
ally is  life  sustained  by  life  destroyed.  It  is 
the  law  of  being  and  the  Mother  of  the  Wave 
Myriads  never  puts  forth  a  hand  to  restrain  or 
check  it.     She  is  wholly  indifferent. 

For  the  creatures  of  the  land — the  creatures 
not  of  her  spawning  except  perhaps  in  the  early 
days — the  sea  has,  if  possible,  even  less  care. 
They  belong  to  a  different  brood  and  have  no 
adaptation  to  the  water.  They  cannot  swim  in 
the  depths,  they  are  not  able  to  breathe  the 
ocean  atmosphere,  and  the  food  of  the  ocean 


THE  DISCOVERY 


21 


plains  they  gather  only  by  strategy  from  the 
surface.     The  sea  knows  them  not. 

Above  all  she  never  knew  man — the  most  un- 
seaworthy  of  all  the  earth-brood.  He  has  fan- 
cied that  she  was  his  enemy,  that  she  wilfully 
devastated  his  coasts  and  destroyed  his  fleets; 
but  the  sea  indifferently  beats  whither  it  listeth, 
and  if  it  break  the  ribs  of  a  ship  it  shows  only 
how  ill  adapted  was  the  ship  to  the  sea.  What 
does  a  cockle  shell  in  such  an  element?  All 
man's  commerce  and  conquest,  all  his  ventures 
in  civilization,  all  his  philosophy,  science,  and 
art  have  been  as  nothing  unto  her.  He  has 
sent  forth  fleets  of  triremes,  carracks,  feluccas, 
galleons,  ships  of  the  line;  he  has  founded  em- 
pires by  her  shores  and  peopled  cities  by  her 
bays;  but  these  have  made  no  impression  upon 
her.  The  destruction  of  Egypt  and  Assyria, 
the  fall  of  Tyre  and  Sidon,  the  conquests  of 
Alexander,  the  vast  holocaust  of  Eome  never 
so  much  as  caused  her  a  quiver.  Her  waves 
lapped  the  blood  from  the  steps  of  Carthage  in 
the  days  of  Hamilcar  and  lapped  the  weed  on 
the  same  steps  when  all  was  silent  in  decay. 
Her  waters  bore  the  transports  of  the  believing 
crusaders  going  to  the  Holy  Land,  and  they 
also  bore  the  black  fleets  of  the  Barbary  cor- 
sairs on  robbery  and  murder  bent.    What  mat- 


The  ten's 
indifference 
to  man. 


22 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Wrecks  of 
ships  and 
empires 
make  no 
impression. 


ter  to  the  sea  who  they  were  or  whither  they 
went !  A  thousand  ships  go  down  to  the  bot- 
tom as  snow  flakes  fall  and  melt  into  a  moun- 
tain lake,  but  the  sea  does  not  change  color. 
She  is  inured  to  life;  yes,  and  she  is  inured  to 
death.  All  things  of  earth  may  come  and  go. 
But  the  sea  lasts.  There  as  at  the  dawning  of 
the  first  day  the  great  Mother  rests,  calm,  cold, 
unconquerable. 

Yet  men  quarrel  for  her  possession  and  talk 
vainly  of  being  "  rulers  of  the  wave,"  as  though 
the  sea  were  more  subject  to  rule  than  the  open 
sky !  One  race  of  coasters  drives  another  race 
from  the  pathway  of  commerce  and  thinks 
thereby  to  gain  control.  But  power  and  mys- 
tery and  death  are  still  there.  Vast  possibili- 
ties are  always  hovering  on  the  face  of  the 
waters.  For  many  years  the  waves  lie  still  and 
seem  to  slumber  and  then  in  a  night  they  rise 
up  in  storm  to  engulf  and  strangle.  It  is  but 
a  momentary  happening — a  mere  accident.  An 
area  of  water  is  wrinkled  by  the  winds  and 
other  portions  of  the  sea  are  not  even  aware 
of  it.  The  great  depths  are  as  unrufl9ed  as 
ever.  At  heart  eternal  calmness,  serene  repose 
are  always  with  the  sea. 

And  always  eternal  beauty.  In  every  clime 
and  in  every  season,  from  dawn  to  dusk,  from 


Repose  of 
the  sea. 


THE   DISCOVERY 


23 


dusk  to  dawn,  it  has  the  stamp  of  supreme 
beauty.  Immensity  and  power  are  there,  grace 
and  rhythm  of  movement  run  with  its  waves 
and  currents,  light  and  color  give  it  brilliancy 
and  splendor.  Each  wind  that  ruffles  it  shows 
a  new  purity  of  hue,  and  each  cloud  that  passes 
over  it  a  new  depth  of  reflection.  The  rounded 
heavens  use  it  as  a  mirror,  the  stars  are  set 
like  jewel  points  upon  its  bosom,  and  the  golden 
sun  flames  from  the  bright  incline  of  each 
ocean  swell  like  a  mighty  topaz  shot  with  fire. 
Oh,  the  beauty  of  the  sea !  The  full-rounded 
sweep  of  it !  The  deep  transparency  of  it ! 
The  wondrous  harmony  of  it !  The  whole  life 
of  the  world  lies  there  conserved  by  its  own 
energy — serene,  indestructible,  eternal. 


The  beauty 
of  the  sea. 


CHAPTER    II 


Currents  of 
the  sea. 


SWIRLS  OF  THE  SEA 

The  ancient  tradition  that  a  great  river  in 
the  sea  ran  about  the  land,  circling  it  like  a 
ring,  seems  to  the  people  of  to-day  an  apt  in- 
stance of  early  error;  and  yet  it  was  not  such 
a  wild  conjecture,  not  so  far  from  the  apparent 
truth.  Off  from  the  western  coasts  of  Europe 
and  Africa  the  Phoenicians  knew  the  currents 
of  the  ocean  that  helped  or  hindered  their  far- 
traveling  ships.  They  knew  there  was  a  vast 
circulation  through  the  seas;  and  wherever  on 
distant  island  shores  their  vessels  touched  they 
heard  tales  told  of  the  blue  beyond  with  its 
mighty  streams  eddying  about  rocks  or  whirling 
downward  into  maelstrom  depths.  These  tales 
(grown  colossal  by  frequent  tellings)  finally  be- 
came beliefs  with  the  primitive  races ;  the  ocean 
was  regarded  as  an  unending  strom,  and  the 
land  little  more  than  a  tangible  something  an- 
chored in  the  center  of  the  swirl.  It  was  a 
very  little  world,  a 

"  precious  stone  set  in  the  silver  sea  " 

with  wild  waves  fretting  at  its  edges. 

24 


SWIRLS   OF   THE   SEA. 


25 


Even  at  the  present  time  humanity  has  dif- 
ficulty in  compreliending  that  the  earth  is  solid, 
that  it  is  far  greater  in  bulk  than  the  sea,  and 
that  its  hollows  and  depressions  hold  the  sea 
as  in  a  shallow  dish.  Superficially  looked  at 
the  water  has  many  times  the  bulk  of  the 
dish,  but  not  the  less  it  is  the  dish  that 
sustains.  It  holds  the  water  and  holds  it  with 
a  flat  surface.  When  the  wind  blows  the  surface 
is  ruffled;  when  the  dish  itself  is  shaken  the 
water  is  rocked  into  tidal  waves.  But  these  are 
momentary  disturbances.  Generally  speaking 
the  surface  is  smooth  and  practically  flat. 

Flat  but  not  everywhere  level  though  it  looks 
so  to  the  eye.  In  sea  musings  when  gazing  out 
upon  the  great  plain  we  are  continually  re- 
minded of  the  saying  about  "  water  seeking  its 
level " ;  but  it  would  seem  as  though  the  saying 
were  more  familiar  than  accurate.  There  is, 
for  instance,  a  variation  between  the  levels  (not 
the  tides)  of  the  Atlantic  and  the  Pacific  at 
Panama  which  has  been  vaguely  regarded  as  a 
possible  difficulty  in  the  way  of  the  proposed 
inter-oceanic  canal.  There  is  also  considerable 
variation  in  the  mean  sea  level  owing  to  dif- 
ference in  atmospheric  pressure  over  differ- 
ent localities.  And  again  local  disturbances 
such   as    winds,    may    alter    the    level    tempo- 


Extent  of 
land  and 
water. 


Sea  level 


26 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Disturb- 
ances of 
the  level. 


rarily.  The  height  of  the  Bed  Sea  is  low- 
ered or  elevated  as  the  northwest  wind  blows 
the  water  out  of  the  sea  basin  or  not,  the  estu- 
ary of  the  Rio  de  la  Plata  is  continually  vary- 
ing in  level  with  the  direction  of  the  wind; 
and,  indeed,  it  is  a  commonly  observed  happen- 
ing for  water  to  be  wind-driven  in  or  out  of 
almost  all  bays  and  harbors.  But  these  again 
are  inequalities  of  a  temporary  character. 

There  is  a  greater  variation  in  the  Indian 
Ocean  around  the  head  of  the  Arabian  Sea, 
where  the  water  is  supposed  to  be  drawn  up  and 
out  of  the  spherical  by  so  much  as  three  hun- 
dred feet — it  is  computed  by  some  scientists  as 
even  more.  This  almost  incredible  elevation  is 
accounted  for  by  the  attraction  of  the  Hima- 
layas. Possibly  the  Andes,  that  stand  with  their 
feet  in  the  ocean,  produce  a  similar  effect  upon 
the  waters  of  the  Pacific ;  but  certainly  the  man 
before  the  mast  has  never  seen  it,  and  the 
navigator  in  the  chart  room  has  never  made 
note  of  it.  Nor  is  there  any  great  certainty 
about  the  upward  pull  of  the  Himalayas.  That 
the  hydrosphere  is  drawn  out  of  the  spherical 
by  earth-attraction,  or  flung  up  in  equatorial 
ridges  by  the  spinning  motion  of  the  earth,  is 
something  as  yet  quite  problematical. 

The  change  of  level  brought  about  by  the 


Effect  of 
earth's  at- 
traction. 


SWIRLS   OF   THE   SEA 


27 


tides  is  popularly  supposed  to  be  a  surface 
movement,  but  it  is  not  the  less  of  far-reaching 
eiTect.  Possibly  the  tide  was  what  Mahomet 
called  "the  swelling  sea,"  for  apparently  the 
sea  does  swell  and  advance  with  the  incoming 
water.  For  six  hours  it  floods  in  upon  every 
harbor,  bay,  and  creek,  creeps  up  the  beaches, 
rises  along  the  dunes,  and  climbs  the  walls  of 
the  cliffs;  then  for  six  hours,  just  as  quietly  it 
ebbs  and  slips  away  from  beach  and  inlet, 
leaving  its  trail  of  algce  and  sea  life  behind  it 
on  the  shore.  The  fisher-boy,  as  he  rocks  in 
his  boat,  watches  it  rise  twice  each  day,  sees 
it  linger  for  a  time,  sees  it  disappear,  and 
dreamily  wonders  from  what  depth  it  came  and 
to  what  abyss  it  returns.  And  why,  he  asks, 
does  it  come  in  each  day  an  hour  later? 

The  cause  of  the  tides  seems  to  have  been 
correctly  divined  by  Newton.  His  generaliza- 
tion of  the  law  of  gravitation  apparently  ac- 
counts for  the  disturbance;  and  the  moon  and 
the  sun  with  their  attractive  powers  are  ac- 
counted the  disturbers.  The  moon,  by  reason 
of  its  nearness,  has  an  influence  upon  the  earth 
of  more  than  double  that  of  the  sun.  The 
solid  surface  of  the  ground  apparently  does  not 
rise  to  its  attraction,  but  the  waters  of  the  sea 
do.    The  direct  pull  upon  the  waters  which  are 


The  swell- 
ing sea. 


The  tides. 


Cause  of 
the  tides. 


28 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  aflrnc- 
tioji  of  the 
vwon 


High  and 
low  tides 


the  nearest  to  the  moon,  draws  them  out  of  the 
spherical  on  the  near  side  of  the  earth,  and 
draws  the  earth  itself  away  from  the  waters 
on  the  far  side.  The  result  is  a  bulge  or  heap- 
ing up  of  water  along  those  portions  of  the 
earth  nearest  and  farthest  removed  from  the 
moon.  At  the  intermediate  points,  between  the 
nearest  and  farthest  remove,  the  pull  of  the 
moon  is  a  force  directed  inward  toward  the  cen- 
ter of  the  earth,  and  has  a  tendency  to  flatten 
the  waters  in  those  regions.  The  result  here  is 
a  depression  or  hollowing  instead  of  a  bulge. 
Thus  with  the  water  high  in  the  places  nearest 
and  farthest  from  the  moon,  and  low  at  the 
intermediate  points,  we  have  the  sea  raised 
above  its  normal  level  in  some  places  and  de- 
pressed below  its  normal  level  at  other  places. 
These  elevations  and  depressions  are  what  we 
call  "  high  "  and  "  low  "  tide. 

There  are  really  four  tides  a  day  instead  of 
two — the  moon  and  the  sun  causing  two  tides 
each.  But  the  solar  tides  are  so  much  smaller 
than  the  lunar,  and  so  largely  merged  in  the  lat- 
ter, that  they  are  not  iisually  noticed.  The  in- 
fluence of  the  sun  is  very  noticeable,  however, 
when  it  joins  with  the  moon  (that  is  twice  a 
month)  and  there  is  a  pull  together.  This  re- 
sults in  the  "  spring "  tides  which  are  always 


SWIRLS  OF  thp:  sea 


29 


very  high.  On  the  contrary,  when  the  pull  of 
the  sun  and  the  moon  are  at  right  angles  to 
each  other  (that  is  at  the  first  and  third  quar- 
ter of  the  moon)  and  have  a  tendency  to  coun- 
teract each  other's  influence,  we  have  the 
"  neap  "  tides  which  are  always  low. 

If  the  glohe  were  entirely  covered  with  water 
of  uniform  depth  the  tide  would  follow  the 
apparent  course  of  the  moon  from  east  to  west 
and  complete  the  circle  of  the  globe  in  ap- 
proximately twenty-four  hours.  That  is  what 
it  endeavors  to  do  now;  and  in  the  Antarctic, 
south  of  the  Continental  extremities  of  Aus- 
tralia and  America,  it  is  supposed  to  accom- 
plish it.  But  farther  north,  where  humanity 
is  able  to  observe  its  movements,  it  is  held  back 
and  turned  from  its  course  by  inequalities  of 
ocean  depths,  by  shoals  and  reefs  and  coast 
lines  along  continents,  so  that  it  takes  nearly 
twenty-five  hours  to  accomplish  its  round,  and 
hence  arrives  an  hour  late  each  day. 

What  is  known  as  the  "  primary  tide "  is 
supposed  to  start  from  the  deep  central  waters 
of  the  Pacific.  It  travels  westward  toward  the 
Indian  and  Atlantic  oceans  at  the  rate  of  a 
thousand  miles  an  hour.  When  it  meets  with 
the  opposition  of  shallow  seas  and  coast  lines 
portions  of  it  are  turned  back,  reflected  toward 


spring  and 
neap  tides. 


The  west- 
ern wave. 


30 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Height  of 
tide  wave. 


How  the  ^^®  American  continent.  In  the  Indian  Ocean 
tide  travels,  j^  jg  greatly  retarded  by  island  groups  and  nar- 
row straits.  In  the  North  Atlantic  it  is  broken 
again  by  shoals,  by  pockets  like  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico,  and  passes  like  the  English  Channel, 
until  its  movement  as  a  single  effect  can  hardly 
be  followed. 

From  its  enormous  mass  and  rapid  move- 
ment this  tide  wave  might  be  thought  to  have 
great  height,  but  such  is  not  the  case.  In  the 
Southern  Pacific  it  does  not  average  more  than 
from  two  to  five  feet,  and  that  may  be  consid- 
ered its  normal  height;  but  when  a  tide  five 
feet  in  height  is  driven  against  a  shore  at  the 
rate  of  one  thousand  or  even  one  hundred  miles 
an  hour,  it  can  be  easily  imagined  that  there 
would  be  a  great  rush  of  waters  up  the  slope. 
The  eastern  coast  of  North  America  which  re- 
ceives the  full  force  of  the  Atlantic  wave,  has 
a  tide  of  from  five  to  twelve  feet;  and  its  bays 
and  river  mouths,  where  the  water  enters  at 
wide  entrances  and  is  gradually  driven  into  a 
narrow  upper  harbor,  have  a  flood  tide  much 
higher.  At  the  mouth  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy 
the  tide  is  eight  feet  in  height;  at  its  farther 
end  this  same  tide  is  wedged  and  pushed  up  to 
a  height  of  sixty  feet  or  more.  In  the  Bristol 
channel  the  flood   tides  reach  up   forty   feet. 


Wedged 
water. 


SWIRLS   OF   THE   SEA 


31 


and  on  the  coast  of  France  even  higher  than 
this. 

On  the  contrary  the  large  bays  or  seas  with 
small  ocean  entrances,  like  the  Mediterranean, 
are  not  affected  by  the  main  tide  waves,  but 
have  slight  tides  of  their  own.  At  Corfu  or 
Malta,  the  Mediterranean  is  practically  tide- 
less,  but  at  Venice,  at  the  head  of  the  Adriatic, 
where  there  is  a  heap-up  of  waters,  one  finds 
a  foot  or  more  of  rise,  and  in  the  Gulf  of  Gades 
from  three  to  eight  feet  owing  to  the  formation 
of  the  coast.  Even  comparatively  small  seas  or 
lakes  are  disturbed  by  the  moon  and  have  some 
tide — Lake  Michigan,  for  example,  rising  and 
falling  about  three  inches  a  day. 

Many,  if  not  all,  the  phenomena  of  rushing 
water  in  river  mouths  or  about  reefs  or  narrow 
channels  are  due  to  the  action  of  the  tides. 
The  famous  maelstrom  off  the  coast  of  Nor- 
way, which  the  writers  of  an  earlier  day  em- 
ployed so  successfully  in  fiction,  is  really  only 
an  arm  of  the  tide  thrust  violently  between  two 
of  the  Lofoden  Islands,  and  causing  a  whirl- 
pool which  is  reversed  at  every  new  rising.  It 
is  said  to  be  very  impressive  as  seen  from  the 
cliff  of  Voero  looking  down  clear  and  sheer, 
and  to  be  forceful  enough  to  carry  down  whales 
in  its  funnel ;    but  the  tremendous  whirl  of 


Tide  in  in- 
land seas. 


The  Nor- 
wegian 
maelstrom. 


32 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Scj/lla  and 
Charybdis. 


Rnreg  and 
whirlpools. 


water  fancied  by  Poe  never  had  an  existence 
in  fact. 

Tidal  currents  are  responsible  for  all  the 
fearsome  whirlpools  of  antiquity.  Scylla  and 
Charybdis, 

"  The  implacable  Charybdis  lashing  the  stars  with  its 
waves  '- 

are  still  to  be  seen  in  the  Straits  of  Messina. 
The  agitation  of  the  water  is  caused  by  the  ebb 
and  flow  of  tides  through  a  narrow  channel; 
and,  though  it  is  said  to  be  dangerous  to  small 
craft,  we  are  told  that  the  conquerors  of  Sicily, 
more  than  once,  swam  their  horses  through  it. 
The  eddy  of  the  Strait  of  Euripus,  near  the 
island  of  Eubcea,  that  in  the  Gulf  of  Bothnia, 
or  the  swift  currents  like  the  Blanchard  Race 
which  Victor  Hugo  employs  in  his  Travail- 
leurs  de  la  Mer,  are  all  caused  by  high  tides 
that  produce  tide  rips  and  funnel-shaped 
whirls. 

These  races  and  whirlpools  are  interesting 
to  follow  because  there  is  nothing  more  fasci- 
nating than  the  slip  and  glide  of  water,  and 
even  the  come  and  go  of  the  tide  on  the  beach 
has  a  charm  to  those  who  watch;  but  they  are 
usually  not  so  dangerous  as  they  look.  To  be 
sure  "  the  hungry  tide  " — though  it  never  hun- 


SWIRLS   OF   THE   SEA 


33 


gers — has  been  held  responsible  for  many  a 
sad  sea-tale  due  to  human  carelessness;  but  the 
ordinary  tide  is  quite  harmless  and  floods  in  as 
softly  as  the  moonlight  over  sunset  prairies. 

This,  however,  cannot  always  be  said  about 
the  most  violent  of  the  tidal  manifestations  as 
seen  in  the  mouths  of  certain  rivers.  A 
"  bore "  is  not  only  fascinating  but  it  may 
be  very  dangerous  to  shipping.  It  is  usually 
caused  by  the  inward  rush  of  the  tide  water 
opposing  the  slow  outward  movement  of  the 
river  water.  The  tide  is  at  first  driven  in  and 
wedged  to  a  great  height  by  the  narrowing 
shores.  It  then  encounters  the  river  water, 
pushes  it  up  to  a  flattened  angle,  and  finally 
breaks  over  it  and  on  it  with  a  foam,  a  dash, 
and  a  roar.  It  may  take  other  forms  from 
other  causes,  but  it  is  usually  a  breaker,  not 
dashing  up  the  beach,  but  dashing  up  the  river 
mouth  over  the  water  of  the  river.  Sometimes, 
as  at  the  final  exit  of  the  Colorado,  this  breaker 
comes  forward  with  great  power.  At  the  mouth 
of  the  Amazon  it  reaches  a  height  of  sixteen 
feet  (it  is  said  to  be  even  higher)  and  the  bores 
of  the  Tsien-Tang-Kiang  and  the  Ganges  arc 
hoth  famous  and  dreaded.  For  the  breaker 
whether  upon  the  bay  or  upon  the  coast  has  a 
crushing  blow  that  ribs  of  steel  and  walls  of 


The 
"bore." 


"Bores"  of 
the  Colorado 
and  the, 
Amazon. 


34 


THE  OPAL   SEA 


Tidal 

waves. 


rock  will  not  always  withstand.  The  force  of 
water  is  almost  incalculable. 

There  is  another  wave  occasionally  seen  on 
the  ocean  that  is  called  a  "  tidal  wave  "  though 
it  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  tide. 
It  is  usually  a  wide,  far-traveling  undulation 
set  in  motion  by  some  shock  to  the  sea  basin 
such  as  an  earthquake.  These  subterranean 
disturbances  sometimes  spread  over  a  vast  area 
and  set  in  motion  waves  that  travel  thousands 
of  miles  with  wonderful  velocity.  In  1877  one 
of  these  waves  started  on  the  Peruvian  coast  of 
South  America,  swept  across  the  Pacific  five 
thousand  miles  to  Hawaii,  and  even  at  that 
distance  maintained  a  rise  and  fall  of  some 
thirty-six  feet  from  trough  to  crest.  This  was 
not  so  great  as  the  earthquake  wave  of  1868 
which,  from  the  same  region,  traveled  the  Pa- 
cific in  a  curved  ring  of  perhaps  eight  thousand 
miles  in  length — traveled  at  the  rate  of  five 
hundred  miles  an  hour — and  ran  up  on  shores 
ten  thousand  miles  away  with  a  breaker  crest 
thirty  feet  in  height. 

The  distance  which  waves  will  travel  when 
set  in  motion  by  violent  disturbances  is,  again, 
something  almost  incalculable.  The  explosion 
of  Krakatoa  in  1883  produced  ocean  ridges  one 
hundred    feet    in    height    that    rode    over    the 


Great 
waves  in 
the  Pacific. 


SWIRLS   OF  THE   SEA 


35 


neighboring  islands,  and  were  felt  on  the 
shores  of  South  America  thousands  of  miles 
away.  The  velocity  of  these  waves  was  sev- 
eral hundred  miles  an  hour — not  equal  to  the 
air  waves  set  in  motion  by  the  same  shock  be- 
cause impeded  by  islands^  continental  shores, 
and  shallow  waters;  yet  still  an  amazing  rate 
of  speed.  The  waves  themselves  for  all  their 
destructiveness  must  have  been  wonderful  walls 
of  water — upright  walls  almost  like  those 
thrown  to  the  left  and  right  when  Israel  passed 
through  the  Red  Sea,  dark  blue  walls  as  though 
fashioned  from  lapis-lazuli,  walls  crested  with 
dazzling  white  avalanches  of  foam,  continually 
curling  and  breaking  along  the  blue  apex. 

Of  course  it  would  be  quite  impossible  for 
water  itself  to  travel  at  any  such  terrific  pace 
as  five  hundred  miles  an  hour,  and  from  the 
phrase  "  a  wave  travels "  it  must  not  be  in- 
ferred that  there  is  an  actual  movement  or 
translation  of,  say,  Pacific  water  to  the  shores 
of  the  Atlantic.  The  movement  is  apparent 
only;  not  real.  It  is  the  undulation  that  trav- 
els, not  the  water.  A  ship  on  the  surface  of  a 
swift-moving  wave  does  not  drive  ahead.  It 
merely  rises  as  the  wave  passes  under,  and  falls 
as  it  passes  out  and  away.  The  wind  passing 
over  the  tall  grain  stalks  in  a  Minnesota  wheat 


Krakatoa. 


Wai'es 
from  tlie 
explosion 


The  travel 
of  waives. 


36 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Undula- 
tion. 


Drift  of 
water. 


field  produces  a  wave  in  the  stalks  correspond- 
ing to  the  undulation  of  the  sea,  but  the  stalks 
do  not  move  forward.  Undulation  and  advance 
are  not  the  same  things. 

There  is,  however,  what  is  called  "  drift " 
which,  as  applied  to  sea  water,  means  an  ad- 
vance. With  wind  and  wave  continually  press- 
ing against  it,  water  will  slowly  "  drift "  from 
one  portion  of  the  ocean  to  another.  Floating 
substances  such  as  the  loose  planks  of  a  ship, 
abandoned  at  sea,  sooner  or  later  find  their  way 
to  the  shore,  to  be  eventually  entombed  in 
waves  of  sand;  and  the  bottle  with  its  fateful 
message  from  the  lost,  is  perhaps  picked  up  five 
thousand  miles  from  where  the  waves  first  re- 
ceived it.  But  this  drift  of  the  sea  is  a  very 
slow  movement.  For  days  the  bottle  bobs  and 
pitches,  the  wreckage  swings  up  and  down,  with 
wave  following  wave,  and  neither  seems  to 
change  its  place.  Prevailing  winds  push  them 
some,  and  finally  a  great  storm  sweeps  them 
into  an  ocean  current.  They  move  slowly  even 
there,  but  it  is  largely  due  to  ocean  currents 
that  floating  objects  move  at  all. 

Now  the  ocean  current  that  weaves  a  skein 
of  color  through  the  body  of  the  sea,  is  quite 
a  different  affair  from  tide  or  wave  or  undula- 
tion.    It   is   a  distinct  movement   forward — a 


Drift  of 
wreckage. 


SWIRLS   OF  THE   SEA 


37 


river  in  the  sea  that  sometimes  flows  at  the  rate 
of  two  or  three  miles  an  hour  and  flows  for 
several  thousand  miles  before  disintegrating. 
The  violet-blue  Gulf  Stream  of  the  Atlantic 
is  a  typical  example.  It  starts  in  the  central 
Atlantic  somewhere  off  the  coast  of  Brazil, 
passes  northwest  into  the  Gulf  of  Mexico, 
thence  up  the  North  American  coast  and  across 
toM'ard  Europe.  In  the  Florida  Pass  it  is  fifty 
miles  wide  and  very  swift ;  at  Hatteras  it  broad- 
ens and  slackens;  on  the  Banks  it  spreads  out 
fan-like,  is  met  by  the  cold  Arctic  currents  and 
pushed  eastward  toward  Great  Britain  and 
France.*  A  disintegrated  remnant  of  it  is 
drawn  in  upon  and  down  the  coast  of  Spain, 
back  to  its  original  starting  point,  thus  making 
that  great  pool  in  the  Atlantic  called  the  "  Sar- 
gasso Sea."  It  was  this  enormous  slow-moving 
eddy — the  great  Gulf  Swirl — that  so  fright- 
ened the  companions  of  Columbus  by  its  drifts 
of  weed  gathered  and  held  in  the  central  por- 
tion of  the  pool.     Long  after  the  passing  of 

*  There  are  those  who  deny  that  the  Gulf  Stream 
passes  as  far  north  as  England  or  that  it  reaches  Europe 
at  all.  It  undoubtedly  dissipates  to  a  great  extent  at  or 
near  the  Banks  of  Newfoundland,  but  that  its  warmth 
and  waters  reach  and  influence  Great  Britain  and  be- 
yond is  still  believable. 


Ocean 
current  a. 


The  Gulj 
Stream. 


38 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  Japa- 
nese 
current. 


the  discoverer,  navigators  still  thought  that  no 
ship  could  pass  through  it  or  get  clear  of 
entanglements  when  once  caught  in  that  mesh 
of  yellow-brown  Gulf  weed. 

The  Kuro  Sivo  or  Japanese  Current  in  the 
Pacific  is  the  counterpart  of  the  Gulf  Stream. 
It  starts  in  substantially  the  same  way,  swings 
up  the  coast  of  Japan  and  eastward  across  the 
Pacific  to  the  Aleutian  Islands  and  the  coast 
of  Alaska.  Its  effect  upon  ISTorthwestern 
America  is  to  make  of  the  climate  a  something 
akin  in  dampness  and  fogs  to  that  of  Great 
Britain  and  Xorway.  A  branch  of  this  cur- 
rent turns  down  the  coast  of  California,  creat- 
ing another  Sargasso  Sea  in  the  Pacific,  and 
making  of  California  a  climate  somewhat  like 
that  of  Spain. 

These  are  the  two  currents  with  which  the 
sailor  has  the  most  familiarity,  but  there  are 
many  others  put  down  upon  the  charts  of  the 
Pacific  and  Indian  oceans.  The  larger  ones 
are  the  South  Equatorial  and  Australian  cur- 
rents, the  Brazilian,  the  Mozambique  and  the 
Monsoon  Drift.  Comparatively  smaller  are  the 
Agulhas  Current  that  sweeps  westward  around 
the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  and  the  Guinea  Cur- 
rent, either  of  which,  though  slight  by  compari- 
son,  is  mighty  enough   to  command  respect. 


Other  ocean 
currents. 


SWIRLS   OF  THE   SEA 


39 


What  wide  rivers  of  the  sea  run  in  the  great 
Antarctic  has  not  been  revealed ;  and  yet,  so  far 
as  discovery  has  gone,  the  whole  surface  of  the 
waters  seems  in  motion  with  dark  blue  or  gray- 
green  currents,  going  hither  and  thither,  back- 
ward and  forward,  seeking  a  resting  place  and 
never  finding  it.  The  direction,  force,  and 
speed  of  the  currents  are  constant  in  only  a 
very  general  way.  Time  was  when  they  were 
considered  as  unvarying  in  their  movements 
as  the  flow  of  the  Amazon  or  the  Rhine;  but  it 
is  now  known  that  they  are  subject  to  many 
vicissitudes,  dependent  upon  propelling  forces 
that  are  continually  changing. 

These  rivers  of  the  sea  early  gave  rise  to 
strange  stories  about  their  origins,  their  violent 
entrances  and  exits,  and  the  supernatural  pow- 
ers behind  them.  Even  so  late  as  the  middle  of 
the  seventeenth  century  Kircher  suggested  that 
they  were  caused  by  a  circulation  of  the  waters 
through  a  great  tunnel  in  the  axis  of  the  earth. 
He  thought  that  the  northern  drift  of  the  Gulf 
Stream  was  the  inward  draft  of  the  Norwegian 
maelstrom,  that  the  sea  waters  went  whirling 
down  the  great  eddy,  passed  through  the  earth, 
and  were  spouted  out  again  in  the  whirlpool  of 
the  Gulf  of  Bothnia.  This  same  Gulf  Stream 
drift  was  believed  by  geographers  in  the  eigh- 


Variationa 
of  currents. 


Early  be- 
liefs about 
ocean  cur- 
rents. 


40 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Franklin 
and  Maury. 


teenth  century  to  be  influenced  by  the  move- 
ment of  the  sun,  and  by  others  to  be  a  contin- 
uation of  the  flow  of  the  Mississippi  River; 
but  our  wise  Dr.  Franklin  made  a  more  com- 
mon-sense explanation  in  saying  it  was  caused 
by  the  Trade  Winds  forcing  the  sea  water  into 
the  Gulf  of  Mexico  and  that  its  outward  flow 
was  but  the  natural  working  of  the  law  of 
gravity.  When  the  further  common-sense  of 
Lieutenant  Maury  was  applied  to  the  ocean  cur- 
rents there  was  no  longer  any  place  for  specula- 
tion or  superstition. 

Perhaps  the  chief  cause  of  all  ocean  circula- 
tion is  the  prevailing  winds.  By  long  and 
steady  pressure  of  the  winds  exerted  upon  the 
surface  of  the  waters  the  upper  stratum  is 
forced  into  a  sluggish  movement  which  gradu- 
ally increases  in  velocity  until  a  well-estab- 
lished bent  or  direction  is  given  to  it.  The 
current  thus  set  in  motion  is  not  deep.  On 
the  contrary,  it  is  a  surface  drift  which  affects 
the  intermediate  depths  but  slightly,  and  the 
great  depths  probably  not  at  all.  The  winds 
that  produce  the  chief  currents  are  the  well- 
known  Trades  that  blow  steadily  across  the 
Atlantic  from  east  to  west.  In  the  Northern 
hemisphere  they  are  turned  to  the  north  and 
flow  back  in  a  counter  current  to  the  east;  in 


The  Trade 
Winds. 


SWIRLS   OF   THE  SEA 


41 


tlie  Southern  hemisphere  they  are  turned  to 
the  south  and  again  find  their  way  back  to  the 
east.  The  movement  is  substantially  the  same 
in  the  Pacific.  The  general  westward  move- 
ment prevails,  and  the  winds  are  again  turned 
back  at  the  north  and  the  south. 

The  main  ocean  currents  follow,  as  closely 
as  is  possible  for  them,  the  directions  of  these 
Trade  Winds  and  seem  to  correspond  with 
them  in  many  ways.  In  the  Atlantic  the  South 
Equatorial  Current  flows  to  the  west  pushed 
by  the  Southeast  Trades.  When  it  meets  the 
coast  of  Brazil  part  of  it  is  shunted  off  south 
to  make  the  Brazilian  Current  and  part  of  it 
goes  to  the  north,  enters  the  Gulf  of  Mexico, 
and  with  the  North  Equatorial  Current  after- 
ward emerges  as  the  Gulf  Stream.  Substan- 
tially the  same  thing  takes  place  in  the  Pacific. 
The  North  Equatorial  Current  flowing  west 
meets  the  Philippines  and  other  islands,  is  bent 
northward,  and  finally  flows  eastward  as  the 
Japanese  Current;  the  South  Equatorial  Cur- 
rent bends  south  and  east  as  the  East  Austra- 
lian Current.  All  these  currents  eventually  re- 
turn upon  themselves  and  complete  the  circle. 
Moreover,  they  all  have  counter-drifts  running 
in  opposite  directions  that  help  restore  the 
equilibrium  of  the  seas. 


Direction  of 
the  Trades. 


Ocean  cvr- 
rents  follow 
^I'inds. 


42 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Circulation 
of  the  seas. 


"  Horizontal  circulation  "  is  the  name  given 
to  the  movement  of  the  well-defined  surface 
currents;  whereas  the  creep  of  scattered  bodies 
of  water  up  and  down,  here  and  there,  is  known 
as  the  "  vertical  circulation."  Possibly  the  one 
is  but  a  slower  manifestation  of  the  other,  and 
perhaps  both  have  causes,  aside  from  the  steady 
blowing  Trades,  that  contribute  to  the  total 
result.  One  of  these  causes  is  undoubtedly  dif- 
ference in  gravity.  The  seas  of  the  tropics,  for 
instance,  are  subject  to  vastly  more  evapora- 
tion than  those  of  the  polar  regions.  There  is 
more  evaporation  than  rainfall,  and,  conse- 
quently, an  ever-growing  gravity  and  decreased 
bulk.  At  the  poles,  on  the  contrary,  with  much 
snow  and  ice  continually  melting  and  very  lit- 
tle evaporation,  there  must  be  a  tendency  to 
freshness.  This  means  decreased  gravity  and 
increased  bulk. 

It  is  not  possible  for  this  difference  between 
the  polar  and  the  equatorial  waters  to  exist 
without  an  attempt  at  equalization.  The  great 
Leonardo  argued  that  much  long  before  the 
seas  were  charted  or  a  theory  of  gravitation  was 
advanced.  The  result  of  the  attempt  at  equali- 
zation is  an  exchange,  an  interchange.  The 
waters  of  the  north  and  south  work  underneath 
by  current,  drift,  and  gradual  "  creep  ''  toward 


Exchange  of 
currents. 


SWIRLS   OF   THE   SEA 


43 


the  equator ;  and  the  waters  of  the  equator  work 
forever  along  the  surface,  moving  outward  tow- 
ard the  poles. 

There  is  a  similar  interchange  of  waters  by 
force  of  gravity  in  the  majority  of  inland  seas. 
The  evaporation  from  the  surface  of  the  lied 
Sea  is  estimated  at  eight  solid  feet  a  year,  and 
from  the  Mediterranean  in  corresponding  pro- 
portion. This  is  enormous,  and  is  not  compen- 
sated for  by  a  sufficient  rainfall  or  inward 
river  flow.  Both  seas  would  have  crystalized 
into  salt  beds  centuries  ago  were  it  not  that 
through  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar  and  the  Straits 
of  Babel  Mandeb  a  heavy  salt  water  current 
goes  out  and  a  current  of  lighter,  fresher  water 
pours  in.  Even  now  the  salinity  of  those  seas 
is  very  high  and  the  exchanging  currents  of 
water  through  the  entrances  are  hard  pushed  to 
maintain  normal  conditions. 

In  a  like  manner  difference  in  temperature 
may  be  accounted  a  cause  of  sea  currents — a 
contributory  cause  of  difference  in  gravity. 
The  body  of  heat  must  be  equal  to  the  body  of 
cold,  otherwise  the  sea  would  grow  hotter  or 
colder,  just  as  the  body  of  rainfall  must  equal 
the  body  of  evaporation,  otherwise  the  sea 
would  grow  less  or  greater.  Wherever  the  one 
predominates   it  flows  over  and  mingles  with 


Interchange 
of  waters  in 
Red  Sea 
and  Medi- 
terranean. 


Differercc 
in  tern  pera- 
tiire  a  cause 
of  circula- 
tion 


44 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Swirhnnd 
rings  of 
the  sea. 


Swirls  of 
the  air 


the  other.  In  the  process  of  exchange  many 
circles  are  drawn  in  the  sea,  and  currents  ver- 
tical, horizontal,  and  "  creeping,"  come  into 
existence.  The  waters  of  the  tropics  are 
warmed,  raised  to  the  surface,  set  in  motion 
by  the  winds,  pushed  poleward,  and  finally  re- 
turned upon  themselves  in  a  completed  ring — 
a  swirl  of  the  sea.  The  waters  at  the  poles 
are  being  chilled,  sent  down  into  the  depths, 
passed  on  to  the  equator,  raised  up  and  set  in 
motion  poleward  again — another  ring,  another 
swirl  of  the  sea.  Not  here  nor  there,  by  the 
Atlantic  or  the  Pacific,  by  continental  shore 
or  island  archipelago  is  this  exchange  taking 
place,  but  all  over,  everywhere,  continuously, 
unceasingly.  It  is  a  movement  of  the  sea 
whereby  its  purity  and  vitality  are  maintained. 
Without  it  there  would  be  stagnation  and  re- 
sultant destruction. 

Not  the  currents  of  the  sea  alone  but  those 
of  the  atmosphere  are  set  in  motion  by  heat 
and  cold.  The  scorched  air  lying  along  the 
equatorial  waters,  grown  volatile  and  capricious, 
eddies  around  and  around  and  finally  forms 
into  hot  winds  that  rise  and  flow  out  to  the 
north  and  south,  where  they  meet  with  colder 
winds  coming  down  from  the  poles  to  take  their 
place.    They  rise  above  the  latter  flowing  pole- 


SWIRLS   OF   THE   SEA 


4/5 


Thelife- 
giving  prop- 
erty of 
change. 


ward,  become  cooler,  then  descend  and  return 
to  the  equator  as  the  cold  air  of  the  north  or 
south.  Again  in  these  winds  that  parallel  the 
ocean  currents  and,  practically,  are  a  part  of 
them,  there  is  a  completed  circle — a  swirl  of 
the  air.  And  again  is  the  very  existence  of 
the  air  and  its  life-giving  properties  to  the 
earth  maintained  by  this  movement.  Without 
the  exchange  of  aerial  temperatures  one 
part  of  the  earth  would  freeze  while  another 
part  would  burn,  and  all  parts  would  event- 
ually perish  from  the  violence  of  the  ex- 
tremes. 

How  different  from  this  circulatory  move- 
ment of  our  little  world  is  the  great  elliptical 
swing  of  the  solar  system?  Is  there  not  a 
swirl  of  the  universe  as  well  as  of  the  sea  and 
air?  And  is  it,  too,  not  caused  primarily  by 
difference  in  temperature?  The  extremes  of 
the  equator  and  the  poles  are  sufficient  to  set 
in  motion  thousands  of  miles  of  air  and  water; 
but  what  is  the  heat  of  the  equator  to  the  blaze 
of  the  sun  itself  or  the  cold  of  the  poles  com- 
pared with  the  possible  absolute  zero  of  upper 
space?  If  the  heat  of  the  sun  flows  out  (as 
we  know  it  does)  must  not  the  cold  of  space 
flow  in?  On  the  tremendous  currents  thus  set 
in  motion  would  the  planets  of  our  solar  sys- 


Suirl  of  the 
solar  system 


46 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  Milky 
Way  a  Sar- 
gasso Sea. 


tern  be  any  more  than  tennis  balls  floating  in 
the  maelstrom? 

Ours  is  but  a  single  circle  in  space.  For  mil- 
lions of  years  perhaps  we  have  been  eddying 
slowly  in  a  Sargasso  Sea,  seeing  on  the  other 
side  of  the  pool  Jupiter  and  Saturn  and  Nep- 
tune whirling  around  the  rim.  It  is  but  a 
little  swirl  in  the  universe,  but  had  we  but  the 
eyes  to  see  and  the  mind  to  grasp  we  should 
perhaps  find  it  not  different  in  principle  from 
the  greater  swirl.  That  vast  clustering  star- 
belt  which  we  call  the  Milky  Way  heaps  up 
from  our  horizon  to  a  glittering  ring  in  the 
heavens.  What  it  circles  no  one  knows,  but 
there  is  little  doubt  that  it  is  a  circle.  What 
power  swung  that  mighty  swirl  into  motion? 
Where  blazes  the  luminary  that  drives  those 
stars  together?  Are  they  themselves  the  cen- 
tral dynamos  of  the  universe,  and  are  all  the 
constellations  that  plunge  hither  and  yon 
through  space  driven  off  upon  great  ellipses 
by  their  stupendous  heat? 

There  is  no  answer.  The  great  truths  were 
evidently  not  meant  for  us.  We  have  never 
been  able  to  understand  them.  We  grope 
blindly  for  causes,  dragging  to  light  plausible 
theories  that  last  a  little  time  and  then  go  their 
way,  being  wholly  insufficient.    The  long  argu- 


The  starch 
lor  truth. 


SWIRLS   OF  THE   SEA 


47 


ment  of  science  but  proves  its  weakness.  If  the 
truth  is  ever  known  there  will  be  no  need  of 
demonstration,  for  everything  in  human  ex- 
perience will  immediately  confirm  it. 

But  we  have  waited  long  for  the  truth-bearer 
to  come. 


CHAPTER    III 


IN  THE  DEPTHS 


Superficial 
effect  of 
slorms. 


Shallowness 
of  currents. 


The  storms  that  sweep  across  the  ocean 
plains — the  storms  that  toss  the  ships  and 
harry  the  coast  and  roar  far  inland  through 
forests  of  pine  and  hemlock — have  no  more 
than  a  superficial  effect  upon  the  deep  sea. 
The  rough  winds  irritate  the  face  but  do  not 
penetrate  far  beneath  the  skin.  The  hurricane 
of  the  North  Atlantic  or  the  cyclone  of  the  In- 
dian Ocean  may  whip  the  surface  into  mist 
and  foam,  tear  clouds  of  spray  from  the  wave- 
crests,  and,  at  times,  darken  the  very  sky  with 
flying  scud  and  rack ;  but,  for  lack  of  duration, 
never  disturb  the  under-world  of  water,  never 
so  much  as  hint  its  presence  to  the  great 
depths. 

Even  the  far-reaching  currents,  with  their 
Amazonian  flow  through  the  blue-green  ex- 
panse, are  waters  that  do  not  run  deep. 
They  move  forward,  they  have  great  breadth, 
and  they  reach  down  much  farther  than  any 
storm  agitation  because  of  their  weight  and 
their  continuance;  but  possibly  two  hundred 

48 


IN   THE   DEPTHS 


49 


fathoms  would  be  their  limit.  The  Gulf 
Stream  is  supposed  to  have  onward  movement 
at  that  depth  though  there  is  no  great  accuracy 
about  either  the  observation  or  the  calculation. 
Its  flow  is,  of  course,  more  rapid  in  some  places 
than  in  others,  and  its  deepest  depth  would 
probably  be  obtained  in  such  passes  as  the 
Straits  of  Florida,  where  it  is  forced  through 
a  narrow  defile;  but  on  the  Banks,  where  it 
flattens  and  spreads,  it  must  be  much  shal- 
lower. As  for  the  depth  of  the  smaller  ocean 
currents,  probably  a  hundred  fathoms  would  be 
an  approximate  estimate.  When  such  a  figure 
is  considered  in  connection  with  the  average 
depth  of  the  ocean  (about  two  thousand  fath- 
oms), it  will  be  readily  seen  that  no  ocean  cur- 
rent more  than  scratches  the  surface  of  the 
great  waters. 

The  tides  that  move  about  the  world  used  to 
be  considered  of  superficial  penetration  also; 
but  it  has  been  matter  of  surprise  more  than 
once  to  find  by  casual  observation  how  deep 
they  reach.  From  steep  cliffs  looking  down 
through  clear  water  the  rush  of  a  four-foot  tide 
can  be  seen  swaying  the  sea  weed  a  hundred 
and  fifty  feet  below ;  and  in  the  harbors  and  in- 
lets the  impetus  of  such  a  tide  is  felt  to  the  very 
bottom. 


Ciirrctili 
merel;/ 
scratch  the 
surface. 


The  depth 

of  the 
tides. 


60 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Tides  not 
perceptible 
in  mid- 
ocean. 


In  mid-ocean  the  tide  is  perhaps  of  less  sig- 
nificance. On  the  surface  it  is  not  even  no- 
ticed. The  waters  swell  for  six  hours  and  con- 
tract for  six  more;  but  the  open  sea  gives  no 
indication  of  this  and  the  ship  we  sail  in  has 
no  perceptible  rise  or  fall.  Yet  the  tide  comes 
and  goes  notwithstanding,  and  how  deep  its 
flood  is  not  positively  known.  Who  shall  say 
that  the  great  attraction  of  the  moon  pulls  the 
surface  of  the  waters  out  of  the  spherical  but 
has  no  effect  upon  the  depths?  Does  not  the 
theorist  of  the  tides  believe  that  on  the  side 
farthest  removed  from  the  moon  the  earth 
is  pulled  away  from  the  sea — away  from  the 
bottom  of  the  sea?  Oceanography  is  not  by 
any  means  a  complete  science,  and  there  are 
many  facts,  in  the  deep  bosom  of  the  ocean 
buried,  that  may  some  day  arise  to  overset 
present  theories. 

As  already  said,  the  so-called  tidal  wave,  set 
in  motion  by  an  earthquake  or  volcanic  explo- 
sion, is  quite  different  from  the  ordinary  tide. 
The  explosion  that  starts  the  wave  may  come 
from  the  bottom  and  may  shake  all  the  subter- 
ranean depths  for  hundreds  of  miles  about  it. 
The  deep-sea  fishes  killed  and  blown  to  the  sur- 
face by  the  bursting  of  Krakatoa  would  seem  to 
indicate  that  the  great  wave  set  in  motion  by 


Tide 
theories. 


Tidal 
xcaveB. 


IN   THE   DEPTHS 


51 


the  explosion  started  from  the  lower  depths. 
This  wave  moved  across  the  Indian  Ocean,  pos- 
sibly reaching  down  two  thousand  fathoms 
from  top  to  bottom,  swaying  and  tossing  every- 
thing it  encountered ;  until  finally  rounding  the 
South  Pole — -half  of  the  wave  on  either  side — 
it  met  and  destroyed  itself.  The  South  Ameri- 
can tidal  wave  of  1877,  driven  by  an  earth- 
quake across  the  Pacific,  may  have  been  of 
even  greater  depth,  if  we  may  judge  by  its 
surface  height.  The  jar  that  set  it  in  motion 
must  have  affected  the  bottom  as  well  as  the 
lip  of  the  dish. 

Aside  from  these  exceptional  violences,  which 
occur  only  once  or  more  in  a  century  and  last 
for  only  a  few  hours,  the  great  depths  of  the 
ocean  are  doubtless  very  still,  very  motionless. 
None  of  the  fret  of  the  surface  is  felt  in  them ; 
only  the  sluggish  exchange  of  cold  and  warm 
currents  that  drag  along  the  sea  ooze  or  creep 
inch  by  inch  in  vast  fields  from  level  to  level. 
The  lair  of  the  great  polyp  is  not  invaded  by 
wind  or  wave.  Nor  by  sunlight.  The  fishes 
down  there  have  eyes,  but  eyes  perhaps  not  well 
fitted  for  our  light.  Phosphorescent  beams,  it 
is  said,  are  all  that  ever  come  to  them;  but  of 
that  we  may  not  be  sure.     If  there  were  ears 


wherewith  to  hear  in  those  ocean  caves,  thev 


The  great 
till  III  waves. 


Stillness  of 

ocean 

depths. 


52 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Darkness  of 
the  depths. 


Jn  the  pit. 


would  be  even  less  useful  than  eyes,  save  as  a 
means  of  balancing  in  ascents  and  descents; 
for 

"There  is  no  sound,  no  echo  of  sound,  in  the  deserts 
of  the  deep, 
On  the  great  gray  level  plains  of  ooze  where  the  shell- 
burred  cables  creep." 

Nothing  there  ever  breaks  the  eternal  silence 
or  varies  the  vast  monotony. 

It  is  thought,  again,  that  no  vegetation  of 
any  kind  lives  in  those  depths,  though  this  may 
be  an  error;  and  that  no  visible  colors  enliven 
its  floors,  though  that,  too,  may  be  a  false  con- 
clusion. There  are  no  seasons,  no  springtime 
or  harvest,  no  day  or  night.  Time  is  as  naught 
in  this  kingdom  of  the  sea,  where  no  king  sits 
in  state  and  no  law  is  known  but  the  law  of 
self-preservation.  And  yet,  hideous  as  it  may 
seem,  this  deep,  dark  pit,  without  air  or  sky, 
where  serpentine  things  creep  and  grapple  and 
devour  each  other,  should  have  its  purpose  in 
the  economy  of  nature.  Nothing  is  builded  in 
vain.  Out  of  the  ooze  and  slime  of  the  sea, 
who  shall  say  what  forms  of  life-repulsive  stalk 
into  nobler  being! 

But  again  the  deadly  chill  of  it!  All  the 
warmth  of  the  sea  lies  on  the  surface.     The 


IN   THE   DEPTHS 


63 


underlying  waters  are  cold — intensely  cold. 
Not  in  the  polar  regions  alone  is  this  true,  as 
might  naturally  be  supposed.  The  waters  there 
have  given  a  temperature  as  low  as  28°  F. ; 
but  the  temperature  underlying  the  equatorial 
waters  is  only  a  degree  or  more  higher.  Great 
wastes  of  ice-cold  water  underlie  all  the  seas. 
The  Pacific  with  its  southern  fields  exposed  to 
the  sun  might  be  thought  warmer  than  the 
Atlantic,  but  in  reality  it  is  colder  by  about 
two  degrees — the  register  being  some  33°  F. 
for  the  one  and  35°  F.  for  the  other.  Three 
thousand  fathoms  down  the  temperature  of  all 
the  seas  is  practically  the  same. 

What  heat  if  any  comes  from  the  underlying 
earth  to  warm  the  great  hollows  of  the  sea  can 
only  be  surmised.  None  is  derived  directly 
from  the  sun,  because  our  sunlight  is  thought 
not  to  penetrate  more  than  five  hundred  feet 
of  water.  And  at  the  best  water  is  not  an  easy 
medium  to  warm.  The  sun's  rays  pass  through 
it,  as  through  glass,  leaving  little  heat  behind. 
To  be  sure,  the  surface  of  the  sea  in  places 
often  takes  a  high  temperature — the  Eed  Sea, 
for  instance,  sometimes  reaching  85°  F.  or  even 
90°  F. ;  but  it  is  only  a  very  thin  sheet  of  water 
that  reaches  that  height.  In  the  North  At- 
lantic the  sun  may  beat  all  day  upon  the  flat 


Intenne  cold 
of  dee  I) 
waters. 


Water  not 
earn  in 
warmed. 


54 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


sea  and  not  raise  its  temperature  more  than 
half  a  degree.  Moreover,  the  area  of  heat- 
gathering  water  is  too  limited  to  affect  the 
great  body  profoundly.    Ninety  per  cent  of  the 


Ocean  tem- 
peratures. 


The  aea 
bedt. 


Monntaina 
in  the  aea. 


ocean  waters  fall  below  40°  F.  So,  with  all  the 
warming  and  tempering  effect  of  the  sea  upon 
certain  climates  or  countries,  it  is  still  some- 
thing of  a  cold  blanket  wrapped  about  the 
earth. 

As  for  tlie  sea  beds  themselves,  one  cannot 
think  of  them  as  other  than  the  bottoms  of 
wide  valleys  or  great,  flat  basins  lying  far  be- 
low us — sunken  basins  of  the  earth  where  the 
waters  have  lodged  by  force  of  gravital  circum- 
stance. The  irregularities  of  the  earth's  sur- 
face foot  up  in  actual  height  and  depth  a  dif- 
ference of  some  ten  or  a  dozen  miles.  That  is 
to  say,  if  we  consider  sea  level  as  the  mean, 
we  shall  find  mountains  rising  above  it  five 
or  six  miles  and  ocean  troughs  falling  below  it 
five  or  six  miles.  But  there  the  resemblance 
seems  to  end,  for  there  are  no  such  abrupt 
mountains,  valleys,  or  precipices  in  the  sea  as 
upon  the  land. 

And  yet  there  are  exceptions  to  such  a  con- 
clusion. The  island  group  of  the  Bermudas 
is  clearly  a  mountainous  mass  springing  up- 
ward from  the  sea  floor.    The  upper  part  of  it 


IN   THE   DEPTHS 


56 


is  of  coral  formation  and  rests  upon  a  huge 
tower  of  limestone  somewhat  like  a  capital 
upon  a  column.  The  soundings  off  the  edge 
of  the  reefs  give  a  depth  of  about  2,400 
fathoms,  showing  that  here  is  a  mighty  butte, 
capped  with  coral,  rising  sheer  through  two 
and  a  half  miles  of  water  to  the  surface.  St. 
Helena  and  Ascension  Island,  both  of  volcanic 
formation,  also  rise  abruptly  from  great 
depths;  and  to  the  north  of  New  Zealand  there 
is  a  submerged  basin  from  which  lift  marine 
sierras  some  thirty  thousand  feet  without  quite 
breaking  the  water  line.  But  generally  speak- 
ing there  are  few  mountains  in  the  sea  other 
than  those  of  coralline  or  volcanic  origin.  It 
is  not  probable  that  there  are  any  extensive 
ranges  or  that  there  are  great  wrinkles  or  folds 
in  the  earth's  crust  underlying  the  depths. 
This  is,  of  course,  conjecture;  and  yet  circum- 
stances of  dredging  and  sounding  seem  to  con- 
firm it. 

The  pot-holes  that  sink  far  below  the  average 
depth  are  just  as  rare  as  the  elevations  that  rise 
to  abrupt  heights;  but  still  they  do  exist  in 
certain  places.  Off  the  shores,  or  "  conti- 
nental benches  "  as  they  are  called,  there  are 
sometimes  swift  descents  to  almost  fathomless 
depths — descents  as  over  the  edge  of  cliffs  and 


Volcanic 
and  coral- 
line forma- 
tions. 


Pot-holea 
and  chaama. 


56 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Sea 
troughs. 


down  walls  of  rock  mile  after  mile.  There  is 
some  such  slashed  chasm  of  the  sea  off  the 
coast  of  Porto  Rico  where  the  soundings  give 
a  depth  of  27,366  feet,  and  there  is  a  "  trough  " 
in  the  Pacific,  a  hundred  miles  off  the  Kurile 
Islands,  where  soundings  show  a  depth  of  over 
five  miles. 

These  hollows  of  the  sea  bed,  as  we  have 
seen,  suggest  a  correspondence  to  heights  of  the 
land;  and  yet  it  must  be  repeated  that  they 
should  not  be  looked  upon  as  inverted  Hima- 
layas. The  sea  trough  is  not  exactly  hewn  out 
of  rock.  It  has  no  sharp  edges;  all  its  sur- 
faces are  worn  smooth,  not  so  much  by  erosion 
as  by  terrific  pressure;  and  all  its  substances 
are  honeycombed  and  softened  by  the  action  of 
carbonic-acid  gas.  The  bottoms  of  the  pit  must 
be  mere  sinks  of  ooze.  They  cannot  have  the 
hard  surfaces  and  sharp  fractures  of  the  cliff 
wall.  The  chemical  action  of  the  underlying 
water  would  make  it  quite  impossible.  Besides, 
the  dredge  keeps  repeating  the  tale  of  ooze. 

The  shore  beds,  lying  off  the  continents, 
are  more  varied  than  the  depths.  The  cut- 
tings of  rivers,  the  rush  of  the  tides  into 
gulfs  and  bays,  the  pound  of  the  breakers  on 
the  coast,  help  to  create  many  irregularities 
along  the  meeting  place  of  land  and  sea.    Then, 


Sinks  of 
ooze. 


IN  THE   DEPTHS 


57 


too,  the  washings  of  the  land,  the  admixture  of 
silt  and  rock  with  the  sea  muds  make  a  differ- 
ent bottom  from  that  found  in  the  deep-sea 
troughs.  And  growing  up  from  these  sunlit 
bottoms  are  all  forms  of  sea  life  and  shore  life. 
Along  the  continental  benches  are  vast  hill- 
sides covered  with  algce  as  with  an  olive-green 
carpet,  wide  meadows  where  kelp  slowly  swings 
in  the  blue-green  light,  and  out  from  the 
cliffs  long  slips  and  slides  of  rock  (taluses 
leading  downward  into  the  sea),  where  float 
trailing  green-and-opal  ribbons,  thin  trunks 
and  cylinders  that  stand  like  tiny  sahuaros 
casting  out  living  arms  for  food,  and  groves 
of  dull  green  branches  that  have  neither  fruit 
nor  foliage  and  never  change  hue  nor  place. 

Impressive,  indeed,  to  the  sponge-gatherer 
and  the  pearl-diver  are  these  gardens  and  for- 
ests of  the  shore  that  undulate  only  to  the  slow 
ebb  and  flow  of  tides;  but  they  are  merely  the 
fringe  to  the  mantle  as  compared  with  the  bar- 
rens of  the  deep.  Once  the  abrupt  breaks  of 
the  shore-bench  are  passed  the  ocean  bed  shelves 
off  into  dark  shoals  that  correspond  to  elevated 
tablelands,  and  are  followed  by  depths  that  lie 
flat  like  inland  basins.  These  latter  are  cut 
through  by  long  trenches,  not  very  different 
from  the  deep  arroyos  of  the  desert  or  the 


Shore  beds 
and  their 
boUoms. 


Along  the 

shore 

benches. 


Dark- 
trenches. 


58 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Haunts  of 
the  octopus. 


watersheds  of  mighty  rivers.  For  hundreds 
and  hundreds  of  miles,  under  an  average  depth 
of  twelve  thousand  feet,  stretch  these  basins  of 
the  sea,  rolling  basins  with  rounded  surfaces 
that  have  no  outcroppings  of  rock  in  peak  or 
precipice — mere  wastes  of  soft  mud.  It  is  not 
possible  to  imagine  anything  more  drear  than 
these  cold  phosphorescent  haunts  of  the  octo- 
pus, reaching  seaward  with  unending  monotony. 
When  closely  examined  under  a  glass  the 
make-up  of  the  sea  floor  is  not  found  to  be  of 
one  kind  of  mud  alone.  The  dredgings  of  the 
Challenger,  the  Blake,  and  other  ships,  reveal 
a  large  variety  of  deposits;  and  these  have  ad- 
mitted of  some  scientific  classification.  The 
shallow-water  deposits,  as  already  noted,  are  of 
finer  gravels  and  sands  washed  down  from  the 
continental  shelves  and  carried  out  to  sea  by 
vagrant  shore  currents.  The  nature  of  the 
coast  usually  suggests  the  quality  of  the  de- 
posits lying  off  it — a  granite  coast  with  much 
iron  in  it  producing  the  typical  red  sands, 
coral  islands  producing  coral  sands,  and  vol- 
canic reefs  casting  down  volcanic  debris.  The 
beds  of  semi-enclosed  waters,  such  as  the  seas 
of  China  and  Japan,  or  such  vast  inlets  as  the 
Baltic  or  the  Black  Sea,  are  made  up  of  simi- 
lar "  terrigenous  deposits,"  as  they  are  called. 


Make-up  of 
the  sea 
muds. 


Terriaenous 
deposits. 


IN   THE   DP:PTHS 


69 


There  are  other  ways  whereby  land  deposits 
get  into  the  sea  beds — other  ways  than  by  wash- 
ing down  from  the  shores.  From  the  poles, 
reaching  toward  the  temperate  zones,  there  arc 
vast  plains  or  "  banks,"  composed  of  fine  detri- 
tus which  was  originally  carried  seaward  by 
glaciers  and  icebergs;  and,  as  the  bergs  melted, 
gradually  sank  through  the  water  to  the  bot- 
tom, forming  there  a  glacial  ooze.  Again  the 
basin  of  the  Mediterranean,  along  the  African 
coast,  has  been  changed  in  no  small  degree  by 
the  sands  of  Sahara  caught  up  in  the  air  by 
southern  siroccos  and  scattered  far  and  wide 
upon  the  waters.  And,  again,  there  is  no  doubt 
that  such  volcanic  eruptions  as  the  recent  one 
upon  the  island  of  Martinique,  with  its  clouds 
of  dust  and  ashes,  have  a  decided  effect  upon 
the  adjacent  sea  floors. 

But  the  deep-sea  beds,  containing  what  arc 
called  the  "  abysmal  deposits,"  are  not  influ- 
enced by  shore  or  land  changes.  In  five  hun- 
dred fathoms  of  water,  and  far  removed  from 
land,  ninety  per  cent  of  the  sea  floor  may  be 
made  up  of  the  empty  shells  of  foraminifera, 
pteropods,  and  other  organisms  that  live  in  and 
upon  the  surface  of  the  water.  After  the  death 
of  the  occupants  these  infinitesimal  shells  sink 
slowly  through  the  dark  waters  to  the  ocean's 


Glacial 
ooze. 


Volcanic 
dust. 


Abyswil 
deposits. 


60 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Pteropod 
ooze. 


Globioerina 
and  Radio- 
larian 
oozes. 


The  Red 

Clay. 


bed  where,  with  many  millions  of  others,  they 
help  form  a  "  Pteropod  ooze."  At  a  depth  of, 
say,  two  thousand  fathoms  the  same  shells  of 
foraminifera  are  forever  raining  downward 
from  the  surface;  but  the  bottom  deposit  does 
not  show  more  than  an  average  of  sixty  per 
cent  of  them.  When  three  thousand  fathoms 
of  depth  is  reached  the  foraminifera  are  re- 
duced to  thirty  per  cent.  This  decrease  is  ow- 
ing to  the  increased  presence  of  carbonic-acid 
gas,  which,  as  already  suggested,  dissolves  and 
destroys  the  shells.  The  remainder  looks  like 
a  gray  or  blue  chalk,  is  called  "  Globigerina 
ooze,"  and  is  found  chiefly  in  the  North  Atlan- 
tic and  Southern  oceans.  Finally  this,  too, 
disappears  giving  place  to  a  "  Eadiolarian 
ooze,"  composed  of  the  skeletons  of  radiolaria 
or  star-shaped  organisms  less  susceptible  to  the 
influence  of  carbonic-acid  gas  than  the  foram- 
inifera. In  the  greatest  depths  of  all  is 
found  the  Red  Clay  or  Eed  Mud  deposits. 

The  Eed  Clay  which  covers  the  deep  floors 
of  the  Pacific  and  the  Indian  oceans  is  made 
up  of  refuse  and  residue — that  which  can  with- 
stand the  strong  chemical  action  of  the  gases. 
In  it  may  be  found  decomposed  volcanic  rock, 
pumice,  zeolitic  crystals,  manganese  oxides, 
meteoric  iron,  teeth  of  sharks,  and  ear  bones 


IN   THE   DEPTHS 


61 


of  whales.  Few,  if  any,  shore  deposits  are 
apparent  in  it.  The  rock  is  vitreous  refuse 
belched  forth  by  subterranean  or  insular  vol- 
canoes. The  minerals  are  supposed  to  be  of 
cosmic  origin — planetary  dust  and  meteoric 
fragments  that  have  fallen  into  the  sea  and 
become  disintegrated.  The  great  quantity  of 
sharks'  teeth  remains  quite  unaccounted  for — 
at  least  their  apparent  gathering  together  in 
these  ocean  basins  is  considered  very  strange. 

Another  thing  that  seems  quite  inexplicable 
is  that  no  deep-sea  dredge,  no  rope  of  steel, 
has  ever  drawn  up  anything  from  the  Eed  Clay 
beds  that  tells  of  humanity.  In  shallow  waters 
it  may  well  be  there  lie 

"A  thousand  men  that  fishes  gnaw'd  upon; 
Wedges  of  gold,  great  anchors,  heaps  of  pearl, 
Inestimable  stones,  invalued  jewels, 
All  scattered  in  the  bottom  of  the  sea." 

Without  doubt  there  are  whitened  bones,  and 
ship-girders  of  iron,  and  great  guns  of  steel, 
lying  down  below  the  lost  fields  of  battle  or  of 
tempest ;  but  not  in  the  great  depths  have  any 
such  relics  been  found.  The  sunken  basins  give 
no  hint  of  man  or  his  doings.  Perhaps  his  years 
of  navigation  have  been  too  few.  The  Red  Clay 
floor  is  one  of  very  slow  accumulation  and  is 


Contents  of 
the  sea 
pita. 


Nothinq  of 
humnviiy 
in  the  great 
depths. 


62 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  deep- 
sea  record 
not  com- 
plete. 


Ocean 
transpar- 
ency. 


Seeing  with 
the  unaided 
eye. 


supposed  to  be  very  old.  Then,  again,  the  deep- 
sea  record  is  by  no  means  complete.  It  is 
largely  the  tale  of  the  Challenger  dredge. 
That  was  a  beginning  not  a  finality. 

And,  of  course,  there  is  no  seeing  into  the 
great  depths,  no  gaining  of  ocular  proof.  If 
the  water  were  clear — ^yes;  but  it  is  not.  The 
particles  of  dust,  salt,  and  minute  sea  life  that 
float  in  it  check  and  bend  back  the  rays  of 
light,  at  least  the  rays  familiar  to  us  in  the 
sun's  spectrum;  and  what  we  see  and  know  of 
ocean  transparency  is  merely  the  illuminated 
surface,  a  hundred  fathoms  of  the  upper 
crystal. 

It  is  said  that  in  the  clear  waters  of  the  polar 
regions  the  unaided  eye  can  see  seventy  fath- 
oms down — a  statement  that  seems  very  ques- 
tionable and  yet  may  be  true,  though  certain 
experiments,  made  by  sinking  white  disks  in 
the  water  and  noting  the  point  of  their  disap- 
pearance, have  not  resulted  so  favorably.  All 
depends  necessarily  upon  the  clarity  of  the 
water.  That  at  the  poles  seems  a  trifle  clearer 
than  that  at  the  tropics.  And  yet  it  is  aston- 
ishing what  depths  may  be  sounded  with  the 
eye  in  such  a  salt  sea  as  the  Mediterranean. 
Looking  down  into  it  from  the  prow  of  a 
yacht,  the  beams  of  the  sun  can  be  seen,  hun- 


IN  THE  DEPTHS 


63 


dreds  of  feet  below,  scattering  like  golden 
threads  through  the  imder-waters,  lighting  up 
great  beds  of  kelp  and  banks  of  sponges  and 
gra)^  floors  of  ooze,  where  flounders  lie  flattened 
in  the  mud  and  polyps  creep  and  albicores  go 
gliding  by  with  apparently  no  effort. 

Even  more  marked  than  the  Mediterranean 
is  the  crystalline  quality  of  the  Caribbean.  So 
clear  is  it  that  Columbus — Columbus  who  was 
seeking  a  new  trade  route  rather  than  a  new 
beauty  of  the  sea — could  not  help  commenting 
upon  it.  The  Gulf  of  California,  on  the  Pa- 
cific side,  is  quite  as  clear.  From  the  high 
cliffs  near  Guaymas  one  can  see  floors  of  white 
rock,  two  hundred  feet  beneath  the  surface, 
which  are  not  only  distinctly  visible  to  the  eye 
but  cast  reflected  lights  upward  that  affect  the 
color  of  the  surface  waters.  The  patches  on 
the  surface  that  look  light  gray  or  yellow  or 
perhaps  blackish — the  patches  that  the  navi- 
gator so  quickly  notices  and  associates  with 
reefs  or  bars — are  frequently  caused  by  the  re- 
flection of  the  underlying  sea  beds.  They  are 
proof  in  themselves  of  the  transparency  of  the 
water. 

But  the  underlying  sea  beds  may  also  de- 
stroy transparency.  The  muddy  bottoms  of  the 
North  Sea  make  its  waters  cloudy,  yellowish, — 


The  ricnr 
Meiiiler- 
ranean. 


The  Carib- 
bean and  the 
Pacific. 


Bottom 
reflections 


64 


THE  OPAL  SEA 


Muddy 
bottoms  and 
their  effects. 


Mineral 
stains. 


Sea  saw- 
dust. 


at  times  so  turbid  that  a  few  feet  may  obscure 
all  vision ;  the  Yellow  Sea  is  yellow  largely  be- 
cause of  its  muds  held  in  solution ;  and  in  other 
seas  and  bays  vegetable  deposits  produce  differ- 
ent hues  of  red,  bro^Ti,  or  gray.  There  is  little 
doubt  also  that  minerals  may  make  local  colors 
in  the  sea  as  in  the  smaller  fresh-water  pools 
of  the  land.  The  stain  of  iron  has  given  the 
water  along  many  a  rocky  shore  a  saffron  hue, 
and  the  small  streaks  of  bright  blue-green  that 
occasionally  show  in  shallow  bays  may  possibly 
be  caused  by  some  vein  of  copper  underlying 
them. 

Aside  from  such  local  happenings,  aside 
from  patches  of  "  sea  sawdust "  (beds  of  float- 
ing cylinder-shaped  algcB  of  minute  propor- 
tions, or  swarms  of  one-celled  animalculae  that 
give  the  sea  distinct  hues  of  red,  brown,  or 
white),  there  are  heights  and  depths  of  sea 
color  that  extend  in  body  over  vast  areas.  The 
sea  is  not  an  unbroken  blue.  That  there  is 
variety  no  one  can  doubt  who  has  seen  the  Gulf 
Stream  flowing  in  a  dark  current  through  the 
lighter  colored  body  of  the  Atlantic.  The  con- 
trast is  too  apparent.  The  ultramarine  cur- 
rent changes  under  different  skies;  but  no 
matter  what  the  sky,  the  Gulf  Stream  is  al- 
ways a  darker  and  a  different  hue  from  its 


IN  THE   DEPTHS 


65 


bordering  waters.  This  intimates  that  the 
water  itself  has  some  property  or  quality  pe- 
culiarly its  own  which  gives  it  local  coloring. 
What  is  this  property? 

Particles  floating  in  water  have,  no  doubt, 
the  power  of  producing  a  color  effect  upon  the 
water  itself.  The  fine  hue  of  the  Ehone  is 
caused  by  the  granite  and  mica  grains  that  it 
bears  with  it  to  the  sea,  and  for  many  years 
this  river  was  supposed  to  lend  its  coloring  to 
the  Mediterranean  and  make  that  sea  blue. 
But  the  Mediterranean  has  other  particles  in  its 
waters  that  are  equally  efficacious  in  producing 
color.  The  chief  of  these  is  salt.  The  salt 
particle,  because  of  its  minuteness  and  its  af- 
finity as  regards  size,  has  the  faculty  of  inter- 
rupting, checking,  refracting,  reflecting,  the 
small  blue  ray  of  the  sunbeam.  It  does  this  so 
effectively  that,  when  seen  in  great  mass,  the 
particles  apparently  reflect  from  the  sea  depths 
a  color  not  unlike  the  blue  sky  itself.  It  is 
then  that  we  behold  "  the  deep  blue  sea."  That 
the  sunlight  and  blue  sky  are  contributory 
causes  of  the  blue  sea  we  may  be  sure,  for  the 
blue  largely  disappears  with  the  sun  and  sky. 
The  bluest  of  seas  when  under  storm  clouds  with 
wind  will  show  gray-green  in  every  curling 
wave;  and  wherever  the  wave  breaks  on  the 


The  Gull 

Stream 

coloring. 


Local  color 
of  water; 
how  pro- 
duced. 


The  salt 
particle. 


66 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Effect  of 
blue  sky. 


coast  or  on  the  ship's  side,  there  will  be  rush- 
ing crests  of  green-and-white  foam.  This  is 
equally  true  of  the  Gulf  Stream,  which  beats 
up  into  a  deep  green  in  storm  for  all  the  indigo 
of  it  under  sunlight. 

It  would  seem  then  that  while  the  sun-and- 
sky  color  of  sea  water  is  blue,  its  local  color 
as  seen  under  neutral  light  is  pale  green  or 
graj'^-green.  Many  minor  illustrations  rise  up 
readily  enough  to  confirm  such  a  belief.  The 
stories  told  by  the  sponge-fishers  and  pearl- 
divers  are  all  of  green  water  below  the  surface ; 
at  Venice  the  reflection  of  the  gondola  in  the 
canals  is  not  blue  or  black  but  green;  and  sail- 
ing into  the  Bay  of  Naples  on  a  clear  day,  the 
water  appears  intensely  blue  while  the  same 
water  seen  in  the  tanks  of  the  Naples  Aquarium 
is  green. 

Possibly  the  salt  particle  is  responsible  for 

gives 


Local  color 
of  tea  water 
is  green. 


Salmily 
avil  its 
effect. 


the  great  bulk  of  local  sea  coloring.  It 
us  blue  when  the  light  is  reflected,  green  when 
it  is  transmitted,  grays,  purples,  and  mauves 
when  it  is  broken.  The  salt  particle — salinity 
— also  gives  body  and  quality  to  the  color.  The 
waters  of  the  polar  regions,  continually  fresh- 
ened by  snow  and  ice,  are  much  lighter  in  hue 
than  those  under  the  equatorial  sun,  rendered 
densely  saline  by  the  unceasing  evaporation  of 


IN   THE  DEPTHS 


67 


the  fresh  element  in  them.  And,  of  course, 
much  apparent  body  is  imparted  to  sea  color- 
ing by  the  depth  of  the  waters.  When  taken 
up  in  an  ordinary  glass  salt  water  is  apparently 
colorless.  There  is  not  enough  of  it  to  make 
a  tint.  Air  at  short  range  is  just  as  negative, 
but  when  seen  several  miles  in  depth  the  color 
of  the  element  is  very  noticeable. 

The  sea  water  is  not  so  subtile,  not  so  deli- 
cate, in  hue  as  the  air.  N"o  one  can  guess  how 
many  strata  of  atmosphere  we  look  through 
to  gain  the  blue  sky  over,  say,  Mexico.  A  hun- 
dred miles  away  we  can  see  the  blurred  forms 
of  the  Mexican  sierras  melting  into  air,  and 
feel  the  blue  haze  in  between;  but  it  has  no 
such  intensity  as  the  blue  overhead.  The  sea 
water  is  infinitely  denser.  And  yet  looking 
down  into  it  who  can  say  where  the  coloring 
begins  or  where  it  ends!  It  is  no  surface 
veneer.  It  gains  by  depth,  and  is  wonderfully 
beautiful  because  of  its  transparency  and  lumi- 
nosity. The  color  increases  with  the  layers  of 
water,  deepening  and  darkening  from  the  blue- 
green  of  turquoise  to  the  darker  hue  of  ame- 
thyst and  the  deep  blue  of  lapis-lazuli. 

And  still  there  may  be  a  further  cause  for 
sea  coloring  that  I  am  tempted  to  suggest  at 
least.     The  deepest  hues  are  to  be  found  at 


Coloring  by 
depth  of 
ualer. 


Color  o! 
water  and 


Beauty  of 
sea  crilor. 


68 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Tern  pera- 
ture  as  a 
color  factor. 


Colnr,  local 

and 

reflected 


the  warm  tropics ;  the  lightest  at  the  cold  poles. 
Temperature  as  well  as  saline  density  may  have 
something  to  do  with  producing  this  result. 
It  is  a  noteworthy  fact  that  the  bluest  pools 
in  the  Yellowstone  Park  are  the  ones  with  hot 
water  in  them;  and  certainly  in  the  ocean  the 
bluest  waters  are  those  that  have  a  surface 
temperature  running  as  high  as  80°  F.  or  more. 
Probably  no  one  of  these  factors — temperature, 
depth,  or  salinity — is  sufficient  in  itself  to  ac- 
count for  sea  color.  It  is  more  likely  that  a 
combination  of  them  all,  with  perhaps  other 
causes  unknown  to  us,  are  necessary  to  the  pro- 
duction of  the  different  results. 

So  much  for  the  actual  color  of  the  sea, 
which  varied  as  it  may  be,  intensely  beautiful 
as  it  is  in  quality,  more  wonderful  than  pre- 
cious jewels  in  transparency  and  light,  is  still 
but  a  dull  beauty  compared  with  the  exhaust- 
less  splendor  of  the  surface  reflection.  The 
Great  Mirror  which  mingles  with  its  own  color- 
ing every  color  in  the  gorgeous  furnishing  of 
the  sun  and  sky,  tempering,  blending,  harmo- 
nizing all  tints  into  supreme  glory,  is  not  to 
be  equaled  by  any  other  beauty  of  the  round 
world.  It  has  no  limitations,  no  fixed  reper- 
tory, no  "  usual  appearance."  All  things  of 
color  and  light  belong  to  it,  every  flash  from  its 


IN  THE   DEPTHS 


69 


myriad  facets  is  a  new  revelation,  every  color 
on  its  shimmering  surface  is  a  new  combina- 
tion ;  and  not  one  of  the  millions  of  waves  that 
heave  along  its  surface  bears  likeness  to  an- 
other. The  variety  of  the  sea  surface  is  in- 
finite. 


Splendors 
oJTeJlectioii. 


CHAPTER    IV 


THE  GREAT  MIRROR 


Solomon's 
Brazen  Sea. 


Out  of  Judaea,  seated  back  from  the  coast 
on  its  Syrian  hills, — Judsea  that  had  more  fear 
than  knowledge  of  the  great  waters — came  the 
earliest  suggestion  of  the  sea  in  art.  This  was 
nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  huge  round  reser- 
voir of  brass  that  occupied  a  place  in  the  court- 
yard of  Solomon's  Temple  at  Jerusalem.  It 
was  fifteen  feet  in  width,  a  hand's  breadth  in 
thickness,  weighed  over  twenty  tons,  and  held 
nearly  five  thousand  gallons  of  water.  The 
backs  of  twelve  brazen  oxen  supported  it,  the 
sides  of  it  were  of  beaten  design,  and  its  lip 
was  wrought,  as  the  Hebrew  Scriptures  tell  us, 
like  "  the  brim  of  a  cup  with  flowers  of  lilies." 
The  name  given  to  it,  and  by  which  it  was 
usually  known,  was  "  The  Sea " — sometimes 
"  The  Brazen  Sea." 

What  representative  character  was  expressed 
in  this  massive  basin,  what  if  any  likeness  it 
was  supposed  to  have  to  the  actual  sea,  we  shall 
not  now  know.  Perhaps  it  was  called  the  sea 
because  of  its  great  water-holding  capacity  and 

70 


THE  GKEAT   MIRROR 


71 


probably  there  was  no  significance  attached  to 
the  fact  that  it  was  round.  And  yet  that 
roundness  is  an  apparent  truth  of  the  real  sea. 
As  we  stand  upon  the  deck  of  a  vessel  in  mid- 
ocean  we  find  ourselves  in  the  exact  center  of 
an  enormous  circle  and  the  horizon  line  is  the 
bounding  rim.  We  know  that  this  is  merely 
an  illusion,  that  the  sea  reaches  on  three  thou- 
sand miles  to  France  or  eight  thousand  miles 
to  Japan,  as  the  ship  sails,  that  there  is  no 
disk  of  water,  and  that  the  appearance  is  mis- 
leading; yet  in  the  presence  of  the  sea  itself 
we  are  almost  persuaded  to  believe  our  eyes. 
The  great  expanse  seems  circular  though  it  has 
no  such  form. 

And  we  think  it  lies  flat  though  it  curves 
down  and  away  from  us,  following  the  rotund- 
ity of  the  globe.  Indeed,  it  often  has  a  very 
opposite  look.  Instead  of  slipping  down  and 
away  at  the  horizon  it  seems  to  rise  up. 
That  the  lip  of  Solomon's  brazen  reservoir  was 
fashioned  to  represent  the  sea  horizon  is  per- 
haps a  far-fetched  fancy;  but  that  the  sea 
horizon  itself  looks  like  "  the  brim  of  a  cup  " 
will  hardly  be  questioned.  It  apparently  lifts 
against  the  sky  line,  seems  to  draw  in  at  times, 
and  is  often  as  smooth,  as  clean  cut,  and  as 
sharp  in  line  as  any  lip  of  porcelain  or  brass. 


A  pparent 
roundness 
of  the  sea 
circle. 


TJie  ship 
the  center  of 
the  circle. 


The  "rise- 
up"  of 
horizon 
rim. 


72 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Bowls  of 
blue. 


The  resemblance  to  a  shallow  bowl  is  not  to 
be  shaken  off.  It  grows  upon  one  and  becomes 
more  impressive  as  we  study  the  blue  above  us. 
For  there  in  the  sky  is  another,  an  inverted 
bowl  of  blue,  that  comes  down  and  fits  upon 
the  bowl  of  the  sea.  The  horizon  line  is  the 
point  of  juncture,  and  the  brims  meet  so  ex- 
actly that  no  ray  of  light  creeps  through  to  tell 
us  what  lies  beyond. 

It  seems,  then,  by  a  slight  stretch  of  the 
imagination,  that  when  at  sea  we  are  in  the 
center  of  a  hollow  globe  formed  by  two  hemi- 
spheres of  blue.  We  are  shut  in  and  yet  feel 
no  sense  of  confinement  or  of  oppression.  The 
elements  of  sky  and  sea  are  too  transparent, 
too  fugitive,  too  intangible  for  that.  Moreover, 
we  are  continually  moving  our  central  base  as 
the  ship  moves,  wandering  through  a  region 
that  knows  no  limits,  has  no  beginning,  comes 
to  no  ending.  As  for  the  world  of  land,  it  is 
possible  for  the  moment  to  forget  there  ever 
was  such  a  thing.  We  are  creatures  of  the 
more  volatile  elements;  and  if  along  the  west- 
ern verge  dimly  show  the  silver  and  gray  spots 
of  some  coral  group,  they  are  but  as 
"  Summer  isles  of  Eden  lying  in  dark-purple  spheres  of 


Illusions  of 
the  sea. 


A  limitless 
space. 


sea 


and  if  overhead  the  white  clouds  go  by  in  flocks, 


THE   GREAT   MIRROR 


73 


they  are  but  as  vague  forms  of  light  that  slowly 
glide  under  the  celestial  blue. 

The  two  blues !  Have  they  always  been  blue 
to  human  eyes?  The  Semite  thought  the  sky 
was  merely  a  shade  of  white,  an  embodiment 
of  light  akin  to  sapphire ;  and  the  Greek  spoke 
of  the  sea  as  "  wine-dark  "  and  even  "  black," 
l)ut  never  "  blue."  The  Kig-Veda,  the  Talmud, 
the  Homeric  poems,  the  Edda,  do  not  mention 
the  word.  Was  this  a  limitation  of  vision  or 
merely  of  vocabulary?  The  average  person  to- 
day has  neither  eye  nor  name  for  the  finely 
broken  hues  used  in  the  manufacture  of  silks 
and  tapestries,  and  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at 
if  the  ancients  confused  colors  with  the  light 
which  they  contained,  and  considered  them 
merely  as  tones  or  shades  of  white. 

Yet  the  blues  have  a  very  real  existence. 
The  sky  color  I  have  already  described  and 
explained  as  caused  by  the  dust  particles  in 
the  u])per  air  which  refract  and  practically 
hold  in  check  the  blue  rays  of  the  sunbeam;* 
and  the  sea  color  is  always  more  or  less  a  re- 
flection of  the  sky.  The  sea  itself  is  like  a 
mirror  and,  of  course,  it  comes  the  nearest  to 
faithfully  reproducing  what  is  over  it  when  its 
waters  are  the  smoothest;  but  from  the  fact 
*  The  Desert,  p.  82  et  seq. 


The  two 
blues. 


Knowledge 
of  color 
with  the 
ancients. 


The  sen  like 
a  mirn-r. 


74 


THE   OPAL  SEA 


The  image 
in  the  sea  is 
JiiTker  than 
the  original. 


that  it  has  a  color  of  its  own — a  local  color — 
it  is  not  precisely  like  a  mirror  of  white  glass 
with  a  quicksilver  background  to  catch  and 
throw  back  the  reflection.  It  is  more  like  the 
reflecting  surface  of  an  aquamarine  or  the 
facet  of  a  sapphire  and  puts  some  of  its  own 
hue  in  the  reproduced  image.  The  image  in 
the  sea  therefore  is  always  a  shade  or  so  darker 
than  the  original  in  the  sky.  The  cerulean  blue 
above  becomes  an  ultramarine  below,  a  white 
cloud  becomes  a  gray  cloud,  and  a  gray  cloud 
a  dark  sooty  cloud.  Sunset  hues  blend  into 
new  tones  and  mingle  into  deeper  harmonies, 
and  light  itself,  whether  from  sun,  moon,  or 
stars,  becomes  more  mellow  in  tone,  if  less 
brilliant  in  intensity,  when  seen  in  the  mirror 
of  the  deep. 

This  darkening  of  the  reflection  seems  more 
marked  along  the  horizon  line  than  elsewhere, 
because  the  sky  near  there  is  often  whitish  in 
tone — much  whiter  than  the  sky  of  the  zenith 
— and  thus  makes  more  of  a  contrast;  but 
everywhere  and  anywhere  the  reflection  is 
darker  than  the  original.  This  becomes  still 
more  noticeable  as  soon  as  the  surface  of  the  sea 
is  ruffled  by  wind.  The  many  facets  of  the  little 
waves  immediately  give  out  reflections  of  their 
own,  like  pieces  of  a  broken  mirror.     As  they 


Darkened 
reflection  at 
horizon. 


THE   GREAT   MIRROR 


75 


pitch  at  odd  angles  the  dark  spots  upon  the 
under  portions  or  sides  of  them  which  em- 
phasize their  form  and  drawing,  look  like 
shadows ;  but  such  they  are  not.  They  are  the 
side  reflections  of  neighboring  waves  or,  more 
often,  wave-facets  practically  out  of  reflection 
— M'ave-facets  showing  merely  the  color  of  sea 
water.  A  very  faint  shadow  is  sometimes  seen 
under  the  crest  of  a  breaker  as  it  curls,  curves, 
and  pitches  forward  to  a  fall,  especially  if  the 
water  be  muddy ;  but  a  shadow  on  the  open  sea, 
cast  by  its  own  waves,  is  really  non-existent. 

This  darkening  of  the  reflection,  this  shading 
of  the  mirror  into  a  deeper  hue  by  reason  of 
a  ruffled  surface,  is  very  noticeable  from  the 
dunes  or  cliffs  looking  seaward  on  a  breezy  day. 
Not  only  is  the  whole  sea  darker  than  the  sky, 
but,  wherever  the  gusts  and  flaws  of  wind  can 
be  traced,  patches  of  color  will  appear  still 
darker  than  the  surrounding  water.  Fre- 
quently these  patches  of  broken  surface  show 
extraordinary  tints  owing  to  eccentricities  of 
light.  It  is  an  everyday  experience  at  sea  to 
find  the  water  on  one  side  of  the  ship  looking 
toward  the  horizon  perhaps  a  deep  blue,  and 
on  the  other  side  perhaps  a  pea-green.  Again, 
the  light  produces  a  different  appearance  as  we 
turn  toward  the  sun  or  away  from  it.    A  road- 


Shndows  on 
water. 


Reflection 
in  ruffled 


Eceentriri- 
lics  of  Hqht 
and  color. 


76 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Sea  under 
cloud  light. 


Pffterlions 
in  shadowed 
spaces. 


way  on  the  land,  if  we  follow  along  it  toward 
the  setting  sun,  is  apparently  darker  than  the 
same  roadway  going  to  the  east.  A  similar 
effect  is  noticeable  at  sea,  for  looking  M^estward 
at  sunset  we  see  into  the  darkened  portions  of 
the  waves,  and  looking  eastward  we  see  their 
reflected  high  lights. 

More  extraordinary  still  are  the  hues  that 
creep  into  ruffled  seas  when  the  blue  sky  is 
broken  by  cumulus  clouds,  or  mantled  by  veils 
of  the  stratus  and  nimbus.  Almost  any  un- 
thinkable and  unbelievable  color  may  then  ap- 
pear, checking,  streaking,  marking  the  sea  with 
strange  patterns  in  odd  contrasts.  The  ordi- 
nary white  cloud  which  travels  slowly  across 
the  sky  will,  if  the  sea  is  smooth,  cast  an  ivory 
reflection;  if  the  sea  is  rough,  it  may,  in  place 
of  reflection,  cast  what  is  practically  a  shadow. 
This  shadow  (or  as  Ruskin  prefers  to  call 
it,  this  reflection  in  a  shadowed  space)  is  usu- 
ally lilac-blue — darker  blue  than  the  surround- 
ing water — and  within  the  shadow  the  little 
faceted  waves  as  they  dance  often  shimmer  like 
triangles  of  blue  glass.  Again,  the  gray  clouds 
of  the  nimbus,  that  shut  out  the  heavens  en- 
tirely, cover  the  Avhole  sea  area  with  a  dull  lead 
color;  but  when  through  this  veil  of  clouds  a 
sun  shaft  breaks  and  strikes  upon  the  water, 


THE   GKEAT   MIIiROR 


77 


you  are  perhaps  surprised  to  see  that  spot  of 
water  show  a  local  color  of  lively  green,  its 
little  facets  flashing  like  emeralds. 

Whether  the  surface  is  smooth  or  rough,  the 
sea  is  certain  to  take  its  light  and  most  of  its 
coloring  from  the  sky  overhead.  Clouds  of 
rose  and  lilac  that  spread  around  the  circle 
of  the  horizon  at  dusk  and  reach  up  into 
the  zenith  will  produce  the  amethystine  sea, 
which  is  not  by  any  means  an  uncommon  ap- 
pearance ;  and  "  the  purple  seas,"  that  poets 
delight  to  talk  about,  are  realities  under  cold 
storm  clouds.  In  the  same  way  the  sea  of  gold 
and  the  wave  of  fire  come  from  the  chrome 
yellows  and  scarlets  of  the  sunset  west;  and 
out  of  the  same  resourceful  sky  come  broken 
tones  that,  seen  in  the  mirror,  tell  a  tale  of 
silver,  of  steel-blue,  of  pearl-gray,  of  opal,  of 
turquoise,  of  robin's-egg  blue. 

But  the  reflection  is  very  much  deadened  and 
often  obliterated  if  the  water  is  lacking  in 
purity.  The  North  Sea,  for  instance,  after  a 
storm  has  raged  for  several  days  and  stirred 
up  the  yellow  muds  of  the  bottom,  will  not 
show  blue  notwithstanding  the  bluest  of  skies 
may  beam  above  it.  On  such  a  sea  dazzling 
white  clouds  make  only  dull  yellow  spots,  the 
reds  of  sunset  merely  deepen  and  render  more 


Liqht  and 
color  camcB 
frotn  sl.y. 


Sunset 
skies  in  the 
water. 


Mvddy 
waters  d'lll 
reflections. 


78 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Effect  of 
lemperaiure 
on  color. 


opaque  the  local  coloring;  and  as  for  the  pearl 
and  opal  tints  they  are  practically  lost.  Often- 
times at  sunset  or  sunrise  a  muddy  sea  will 
flash  light  like  a  diamond  and  yet  completely 
fail  to  flash  color. 

The  quality  of  coloring  both  in  the  original 
and  in  the  reflection  is  also  greatly  influenced 
by  the  density  of  the  atmosphere  and  by  tem- 
perature. The  clear  white  light  of  the  polar 
regions  favors  sharp  colors,  which  instead  of 
blending  together  hold  aloof  and  keep  their  in- 
dividuality. There  the  aerial  envelope  does 
not  bind  all  hues  in  a  golden  thrall,  but  allows 
the  blues  and  reds  and  greens  to  glow  intense. 
In  the  morning  and  evening,  when  the  sun's 
rays  strike  the  sea  obliquely,  there  are  long 
trailing  tracks  of  sunlight — sometimes  yellow 
and  sometimes  red — twisting  and  writhing  on 
the  uneasy  M^aters.  As  for  the  twilight  reflec- 
tions in  the  water,  they  are  vivid  in  reds  that 
are  all  scarlet,  as  the  moonlights  and  midnights 
are  weird  in  blues  that  are  all  purple. 

But  the  thin  polar  air,  with  its  consequent 
white  light,  is  not  favorable  to  the  most  per- 
fect color  harmony.  It  is  too  crude,  too  lim- 
ited in  its  scale.  On  the  contrary,  sunlight  fall- 
ing through  a  heated  atmosphere  seems  to  be 
shivered  into  very  delicate  colors  that  blend 


Color  in 

polar 

reoiona. 


THE   GREAT   MIRROR 


70 


again,  at  different  intensities,  into  pronounced 
tones.  Thus  on  warm  summer  days,  in  tropical 
regions,  the  air  over  the  sea  at  sunrise  will 
be  pale  blue;  at  noon,  if  the  heat  continues,  it 
will  show  a  trembling  dancing  gas-blue;  and 
by  three  of  the  afternoon  perhaps  it  is  rosy 
blue  or  opalescent — something  that  shimmers 
and  changes  like  mother-of-pearl. 

Given  such  an  atmosphere  above  a  smooth 
water  surface  and  the  inevitable  result  is  that 
supreme  beauty  of  reflection — the  opal  sea. 
The  sea  not  only  reflects  the  air,  but  its  very 
surface  seems  to  be  changed  by  it  into  an  opal- 
escent transparency;  just  as  the  sky  overhead 
is  modified  by  it  into  something  that  looks  like 
blue  seen  through  opalescent  glasses.  Other 
atmospheres,  more  or  less  color-laden,  that  lie 
above  the  sea  are  as  clearly  reflected  but  per- 
haps not  as  readily  noticed.  The  silver  gray 
that  comes  with  mist  or  fog  is  so  common  that 
we  hardly  see  its  effect  at  all;  and  the  deep 
purple  that  comes  with  twilight — so  deep  that 
you  can  see  it,  looking  out  the  darkening  cir- 
cle of  the  ship's  cabin  windows,  as  a  block  of 
indigo — is  again  overlooked  because  of  its  fre- 
quency. But  the  gas-blue  which  comes  with 
great  heat  puts  a  very  remarkable  face  upon 
the  sea,  and  the  opalescence  is  so  splendidly 


Color  in 
the  tropica. 


The  opal 
sea. 


Silver  grays 
and  twi- 
light pur- 
ples. 


80 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


TheMedi- 
terra  nea  n 
in  the.  heat 
f>j  summtr. 


The  Dal- 

mntian 

coast. 


pearl-like  in  its  quality  that  it  cannot  fail  of 
attention. 

Yet  the  opal  sea  is  a  common  enough  ap- 
pearance during  hot  weather.  It  shows  slightly 
different  tints  on  different  days,  and  perhaps 
only  in  the  still  waters  of  inland  seas  like  the 
Mediterranean  or  the  Caribbean  is  it  seen  in  its 
full  splendor.  And  just  here  I  can  do  no  bet- 
ter by  way  of  describing  this  and  other  ap- 
pearances of  the  flat  sea  than  by  giving  extracts 
from  my  note  books.  The  notes  were  made 
at  different  times,  by  different  seas,  and  may 
sound  contradictory  or  inconsistent,  and  yet 
they  are  quite  true  to  the  time  and  place.  For 
the  sea  is  not  any  one  thing  but  many  things, 
and  rarely  repeats  the  identical  appearance. 

"July  3.  Noon.  Along  the  Dalmatian  coast,  steam- 
ing slowly  through  the  island  groups  below  Zara,  the  day 
fair,  warm,  and  hazy  with  a  peculiar  milky-blue  haze. 
The  sky  is  blue  suffused  with  rose;  the  smooth  water, 
where  it  reflects  the  sky,  is  pearl-like;  seen  looking 
straight  down  into  it  from  the  shadowed  side  of  the  little 
steamer  it  is  green;  under  the  shadow  of  white  clouds  it 
shows  blue;  and  under  the  shadow  of  the  smoke  trailing 
aft  it  shows  reddish-brown — deepening  and  darkening 
where  the  water  is  most  broken  by  the  propeller.  The 
bare  Velebit  Mountains,  gleaming  white  as  chalk  in  the 
sunlight,  are  seen  reversed  in  the  sea  and  the  whiteness 
of  them  is  reduced  to  an  ivory  tint  of  great  beauty. 

"  Evening.     The  sea  ruffled  up  this  afternoon  under 


THE   GREAT   MIRROR 


81 


a  hot  wind,  the  reflection  of  the  steamer  smoke  on  the 
broken  water  became  a  very  dark  cobalt,  and  the  sea 
itself,  breaking  over  white  reefs  and  shelving  rocks, 
showed  a  vivid  aquamarine.  The  sun  has  just  gone 
dowTi  in  a  blaze  of  fire  that  licked  the  tops  of  all  the 
waves  into  flame.  In  portions,  where  the  surface  is 
comparatively  smooth,  the  yellow  of  the  sky  makes  a 
golden  floor  of  the  sea.  The  edges  of  the  shore  show 
ultramarine,  and  just  out  of  the  line  of  sun-fire  the  sea 
looks  like  blue  ink.  This  is  the  coloring  of  Turner's 
'Ulysses  and  Polyphemus'  which  I  have  always 
thought  something  of  an  impossibility  in  its  hue  and 
tone,  something  done  by  Turner  for  artistic  effect,  re- 
gardless of  truth.  I  do  not  know  now  that  Turner  put 
in  his  cold  gouts  of  blue  against  his  hot  golds  because  it 
was  true.  He  wanted  the  contrast — the  relief  of  the 
warm  and  cold  colors — to  make  a  picture;  and  Turner 
was  a  picture  maker  rather  than  a  nature  or  a  truth 
lover.     But  here  is  his  effect  in  nature,  nevertheless." 

A  few  days  later  at  Eagusa,  with  the  same 
sea  and  the  same  weather,  a  slightly  different 
appearance  was  noted. 

"The  day  is  hot,  clear  save  for  heap  clouds 
over  Monte  Sergio,  the  air  rosy,  opalescent,  sway- 
ing, wavering.  The  town,  with  its  great  walls  and 
round  towers,  its  domes  and  turrets,  lies  below  me, 
yellow  with  the  gleam  of  limestone  and  stained 
marble,  reddish  with  tile  roofs  that  show  everywhere, 
and  almost  girdled  by  the  deep  blue  sea.  The  white 
road  from  Gravosa  is  gay  with  the  gleam  of  villas  seen 
in  between  groups  of  tall  palms,  Ravenna  pines,  mul- 
berry and  sycamore  trees.     Dotted  here  and  there  are 


The  Adri- 
atic at  sun- 
set near 
Spalato. 


Turner 
pictures  in 
nature. 


The  town  of 
Ragusa. 


82 


THE  OPAL   SEA 


Seen  from 

Monte 

Sergio. 


The  won- 
derful sea. 


patches  of  poppies,  beds  of  cannge,  great  masses  of 
oleander.  At  the  southern  end  of  the  city  is  a  little 
harbor  where  fishing  smacks  with  gray,  yellow,  and  red 
sails  are  slowly  gliding  about,  a  lead-colored  torpedo 
boat  lies  at  anchor,  and  from  the  stern  droops  the  Aus- 
trian flag,  showing  a  blood-red  reflection  in  the  water. 
Along  the  wharves  are  reddish  groups  of  Albanians, 
Bosnians,  Herzegovinians.  Rings  of  chimney  swallows 
and  white  pigeons  go  circling  around  the  towers;  and 
between  the  harbor  and  an  outlying  island  drifts  of 
gulls  slowly  wing  their  way  with  white  backs  gleaming 
in  the  sun.  Far  out  at  sea  a  black  ocean  steamer  is 
trailing  a  sooty  line  of  smoke  along  the  horizon.  Around 
me  on  the  mountainside  are  worn-out  groves  of  olive, 
and  above  me  are  thistle  and  cactus  patches  where  don- 
keys and  black  goats  browse,  and  where  a  stony  trail 
winds  over  the  mountain  and  into  the  neighboring 
valley.  Bands  of  Herzegovinian  men  and  women  in 
their  picturesque  costumes  are  coming  and  going  to 
market  along  the  trail.  They  stop,  pass  the  time  of  day 
with  me,  and  I  tell  them  in  Italian,  which  they  do  not 
understand,  that  the  sea  is  beautiful;  and  they  answer, 
in  some  dialect  which  I  do  not  understand,  that  it  is 
most  beautiful.  Our  languages  do  not  convey  much, 
but  we  comprehend,  nevertheless.  We  are  talking 
about  the  wonderful  sea,  and  they  are  not  so  weary  with 
the  everyday  sight  of  it  that  they  fail  to  respond.  Is 
it  always  so  beautiful?  Yes;  the  land  may  yield  little 
food  and  the  sun  in  summer  is  perhaps  burning  hot;  but 
always  there  is  the  peace  and  beauty  of  the  sea  stretched 
before  them.  Has  the  sun  ever  shone  upon  another 
such  sea  as  this?  As  I  watch  it  to-day  from  the  hillside 
above  this  ancient  city  on  its  foot  of  rock,  it  seems  as 


THE   GREAT   MIRROR 


83 


though  it  could  never  have  its  equal  elsewhere.  But  it 
is  the  old  story.  Drifting  along  this  strange  coast,  on 
this  wonderful  sea,  each  day  reveals  some  new  beauty 
more  lovely  than  the  last." 

Opalescence,  when  it  gets  into  the  air,  seems 
to  fight  all  shadows  and  turn  everything  into 
some  tint  or  hue. 

"July  7.  In  the  Gulf  of  Corinth.  The  day  just 
breaking.  The  sea  is  like  glass.  Thin  clouds  lying 
along  the  eastern  horizon  like  a  barrier.  Above  them 
great  loopholes  of  blood-red  sky,  high  up  toward  the 
zenith  a  shading  of  rose,  and  in  the  west  a  dark  purple, 
star-lit  veiling.  The  sea  responds  sluggishly  to  the 
splendor  from  above  but  warms  in  coloring  as  the  white 
light  of  the  moon  and  stars  goes  out  before  the  coming 
day. 

"  Noon.  The  sea  is  a  little  ruffled,  showing  about  the 
steamer's  sides  a  wonderful  blue — almost  as  intense 
as  that  at  Corfu  or  Capri.  Far  out  it  makes  a  dark 
cobalt  mass,  and  along  the  rocky  shores  it  glows  green, 
a  Nile  green.  A  haze  is  in  the  air  through  which  the 
hills  show  rosy  and  pink.  Far  back  from  the  North 
coast  looms  Mount  Parnassus — a  vision  of  heliotrope 
lost  in  a  lilac  haze.  It  is  wonderful  just  now,  not  be- 
cause of  its  classical  associations,  but  as  a  mere  rock  re- 
flecting the  most  lovely  light  and  color  in  the  world. 
The  old  masters,  Leonardo,  Giorgione,  Rembrandt,  all 
their  lives  pursued  the  mystery  of  shadow;  and  even 
Whistler  the  modern  (who  does  not,  however,  belong  in 
the  same  class)  made  some  noise  in  the  world  with 
'nocturnes'  and  twilight  shadows  along  the  Thames; 
but  here  over  Mount  Parnassus  is  the  mystery  of  light, 


The  sen  in 
the  early 
vun-ning. 


The  opales- 
cent air. 


The  helio- 
trope of 
Mount 
Parnassus. 


84 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


In  the 
Cycladet. 


Sapphire 
water. 


light  shattered  into  heliotrope  hues  without  a  suspicion  of 
dark  shadow.  Where  is  the  master,  old  or  young,  who 
has  painted  it?  Claude  Monet  has  attempted  it  and 
been  laughed  at  for  his  pains — more's  the  pity!  " 

During  great  heat  the  fiery  colors  of  the 
opal  seem  to  come  forward  and  (especially  at 
sunset)  to  accent  and  even  dominate  the  color 
scheme  of  the  waters. 

"July  14.  Steaming  through  the  Cyclades.  The 
day  is  reeking  hot,  with  a  blue  sky  and  small  heap  clouds 
that  seem  to  have  a  pink  flush  about  them.  The  air 
is  opalescent  and  radiant  but  not  a  breath  of  wind. 
The  sea,  sky,  and  air  are  all  married  to-day — all  blended 
into  one  rosy  blue  glow.  Even  the  heliotrope  hills  on 
the  little  islands  come  into  the  harmony.  I  have  never 
seen  such  a  wonderful  reflection  of  the  air  from  the  sea. 
It  is  much  stronger  than  the  mirage  on  the  desert  which 
produces  the  illusion  of  water  by  reflecting  the  sky  from 
the  strata  of  heated  air  lying  along  the  ground.  Yet  the 
water  when  out  of  the  angle  of  reflection  (as  at  the  bow 
of  the  steamer  looking  down)  is  blue,  almost  sapphire- 
blue,  and  so  oily-smooth  that  the  white  foam  thrown 
out  by  the  cut-water  rolls  over  upon  the  blue  in  patterns 
that  suggest  white  lace.  Amidships  the  steamer  makes 
a  swelling  wave,  but  the  surface  does  not  break  nor  does 
the  blue  show.  The  swell  is  opaline  and  is  curved  like 
the  edges  of  the  mosaic  arches  in  San  Marco  at  Venice. 
Opaline,  indeed,  is  the  only  word  that  approximates 
the  description  of  the  color.  At  times  it  is  golden  and 
rosy,  then  milky  blue,  reminding  one  of  absinthe  mixed 
with  water,  and  then  again  pearl-like.  Last  night  at 
sunset  the  color  of  the  sea  ran  into  the  high  notes  of  the 


THE   GKEAT   MIIIROR 


8» 


opal,  became  glowing  and  fiery,  and  finally  died  away 
in  a  dream  of  blue  and  silver." 

The  opalescent  sea  is  not  an  appearance  that 
belongs  solely  to  the  tropics,  but  is  seen  as  far 
north  and  south  as  the  arctic  circles.  Occa- 
sionally the  northern  and  western  coasts  of 
Scotland  show  it  with  a  sharpness  of  color  that 
might  better  be  called  iridescent;  and  the  At- 
lantic coast  about  Labrador  and  Nova  Scotia 
have  it  mingled  with  breaking  fog  and  sum- 
mer mist  in  a  tone  that  might  better  be  called 
silvery.  At  Bar  Harbor,  on  Long  Island 
Sound,  off  the  Florida  Coast — anywhere  by  the 
Atlantic  seaboard  where  bays  or  inlets  give  a 
chance  for  smooth  surfaces — the  opal  color  ap- 
pears, often  accompanied  by  a  slight  mist  and 
a  white  horizon. 

And  frequently  in  times  and  places  where 
one  would  expect  only  opalescence — in  tropical 
seas  like  the  Southern  Atlantic  or  the  Pacific 
during  the  heat  of  early  summer — one  will  find 
cool  colorings  that  might  belong  to  the  Behring 
Sea  or  the  Iceland  coast.  In  my  note  book  of 
May,  1900,  I  find  the  following  memorandum 
about  the  waters  of  the  Pacific  lying  above 
Mazatlan  in  Mexico: 

"Hot  morning  with  no  wind,  lowering  clouds,  and  a 
lilac  sky  in  the  east  which  has  been  deepening  into  pur- 


The opal 
sea  seen  in 
manii  lati- 
tudes. 


The  coast 
of  Mexico. 


86 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Cold  colors 
in  the 
tropics. 


The  Quality 
of  light. 


Different 
tunes. 


pie  ever  since  daylight.  The  sea,  too,  is  purple,  and 
growing  more  so  with  the  darkening  of  the  light.  The 
water  is  perfectly  flat,  and  the  indefinite  clouds  are  mir- 
rored below,  but  with  a  deeper  tone  than  in  the  originals. 
The  shore  and  hills  are  purplish  also,  the  air  is  mauve 
color;  the  very  light  seems  to  be  tinged  with  this  hue  as 
though  the  only  rays  of  the  sun  that  got  through  the 
clouds  were  blues  and  violets.  There  is  a  lilac  envelope 
about  earth  and  sea  and  sky.  Such  an  effect  if  repro- 
duced in  painting  would  hardly  meet  with  acceptance. 
People  would  insist  that  it  '  isn't  true  to  nature ' 
— meaning,  of  course,  that  the  only  truth  is  the  most 
obvious  truth." 


The  quality  of  light — that  is  light  as  modi- 
fied by  atmosphere  and  temperature — is  re- 
sponsible for  all  these  beautiful  tones  of  color 
in  the  sea,  sky,  and  air.  There  are  days  when 
it  spreads  a  purple  chill,  when  the  clouds 
are  purple  and  the  air  is  cold  blue,  and 
the  water  a  mixture  of  them  all.  Then  there 
are  other  days  quite  the  opposite  of  this  when 
a  rosy  hue  is  filtered  through  the  thin  film- 
sheets  of  the  stratus  and  a  flush  of  rose  is  in 
the  air  and  on  the  sea.  And,  again,  there  are 
other  days  when  the  Indian  summer  of  the 
woodlands  seems  to  be  upon  the  waters  and  the 
hue  is  golden  blue  or  even  yellow.  More  fre- 
quently, of  course,  is  the  familiar  silver  tone 
that  accompanies  a  slight  mist  or  lifting  fog. 


THE   GREAT   MIRROR 


87 


the  pewter  tone  that  comes  with  a  dull  day,  or 
the  cold  gray  tone  that  follows  rain. 

The  striking  effects  of  light  and  color  at  sea 
are  usually  at  dawn  and  twilight,  but  it  is  not 
often  that  these  equal  in  brilliancy  similar  dis- 
plays along  shore.  It  requires  apparently  much 
dust  in  the  atmosphere  to  make  very  bright  col- 
oring and  the  sea  has  less  of  it  than  the  land. 
However,  brilliant  sky-effects  do  appear  at  sea. 
The  dawn  is  usually  cool  gray,  pale  yellow, 
or  possibly  in  summer  months  rose-tinged,  or 
lilac.  The  light  spreads  up  toward  the  zenith 
and  around  the  horizon  ring  showing  in  the 
sky  with  apparently  greater  ease  than  upon  the 
sea.  That  is  to  say,  the  envelope  of  air  which 
we  call  the  sky  must  be  lighted  before  the  sea, 
which  is  but  its  reflection,  can  respond.  At 
times  the  water  seems  to  lie  cold  and  inert, 
giving  back  indifferently  the  light  and  color 
from  above;  but  as  soon  as  the  sun  rides  up 
from  the  ocean's  rim  and  the  direct  rays  strike 
the  surface,  there  is  a  change.  The  wide  sea 
is  instantly  flooded  with  light;  not  the  pictorial 
compromise  in  yellow  paint  of  Claude  and  Tur- 
ner, but  the  pure  white  light  of  the  sun,  scin- 
tillant,  penetrant,  above  all  things  luminous. 

Oh,  the  radiance  of  summer  mornings  at 
sea  when  the  ship  goes  driving  straight  into 


The  dawn 
light  at  sea. 


Spread  of 
the  light. 


88 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Radiance 
of  early 
morning. 


Li(]ht  on 
ruffled  seas. 


Coloring  of 
sea  at 
■midday. 


the  dawn  and  the  light  keeps  springing  up 
above  the  horizon,  above  the  clouds,  above  the 
yard-arms  of  the  foremast!  How  wonderful 
the  spread  and  reach  of  that  radiance,  how 
subtle  its  reflection  in  the  long  rolling  sea! 
Its  coloring  is  usually  no  richer  than  pale  hues 
of  lilac,  rose,  or  saffron,  and  over  these  there 
is  generally  cast  a  dominant  mantle  of  silver. 
As  the  sun  lifts  high  in  the  heavens  the  silver 
is  the  coloring  that  finally  rules.  The  narrow 
pathway  of  light  that  comes  to  us  along  the 
sea  is  dazzling  in  its  brightness,  and  if  there 
is  a  broken  surface  it  will  glitter  as  though 
made  up  of  countless  diamonds.  By  ten  o'clock 
with  a  ruffled  sea  the  sun's  rays  are  to  be  seen 
hitting  the  little  facets  of  the  waves  with  shots 
of  light  that  seem  to  strike  out,  not  fire,  but 
light  again;  and  by  noon  the  pathway  has  dis- 
appeared and  the  light  itself  has  become  less 
apparent  because  more  widely  diffused. 

The  coloring  of  midday  on  the  sea  is  usually 
not  observed  because  the  hues  are  all  low  in 
key  and  some  of  them  are  bleached;  but  as 
the  afternoon  wears  on  the  light  becomes 
more  mellow,  the  color  warmer,  the  reflection 
sharper,  until  at  sunset  perhaps  the  west  is 
all  afire  with  glowing  hues  that  wax  and  wane, 
shift  and  change  place,  then  reappear  in  tints 


THE   GREAT   MIKROR 


89 


more  lovely  as  they  faint  and  fade.  Nothing 
in  painting  can  more  than  suggest  such  a  color 
scheme  as  this.  Turner's  most  brilliant  pig- 
ments are  dull  as  ditch-water  beside  the  flam- 
ing sea;  and  Claude  Monet's  primary  colors, 
placed  in  juxtaposition  upon  the  canvas  for  an 
effect  of  light,  do  not  reach  halfway  up  the 
scale.  No  pigment  ground  in  a  mortar  or 
squeezed  out  of  a  lead  tube  ever  came  within 
fifty  degrees  of  nature's  hues. 

Almost  invariably  at  sea  we  watch  the  sun- 
set in  the  sky  rather  than  in  the  water,  and 
yet  the  reflection  below  is  perhaps  more  beauti- 
ful because  more  harmonious.  The  colors 
deepen  and  become  finer  in  quality.  The  scar- 
lets run  into  dark  red,  the  yellows  into  orange, 
the  blues  into  ultramarine.  The  water  becomes 
a  medium,  an  atmosphere  that  blends  all  the 
hues  together  to  make  a  color  mystery  as  pro- 
found as  any  held  in  the  ocean's  depths. 

And  yet  still  more  distinguished  in  color 
than  this  sunset  sea  incarnadined  are  the  waters 
back  in  the  east  that  reflect  the  opalescence  of 
the  sky  in  hues  of  mother-of-pearl.  The  east- 
ward-lying sea  at  sunset  never  startles  nor 
amazes;  it  is  not  noisy  nor  blatant,  but  it  has 
the  charm  of  perfect  accord  and  the  sulHlety 
of  refined  beauty.    You  watch  it  for  many  min- 


Insuffi- 
ciency  of 
painters' 
pigments. 


Sunset 
colors  in  the 
water. 


Enstivard- 
hjinij  icatera 
at  sunset. 


90 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Moonlight 
on  the  sea. 


The 

Angelua 
hour. 


utes  seeing  new  tones  and  lights  emerge  and 
shift,  change  and  disappear;  and  in  its  death 
throes — when  it  slowly  fades  before  the  night 
shadow  creeping  up  the  eastern  sky,  when  the 
lilacs  of  the  horizon  turn  pale  gray  and  the 
azure  of  the  sky  becomes  a  cobalt — it  is  still 
beautiful  as  a  shield  of  blue-steel  lying  there 
in  the  twilight. 

Perhaps  at  this  very  time  and  before  the 
twilight  has  passed,  the  oval-shaped  moon 
comes  up  over  the  eastern  sea,  lighting  the 
sky  anew  with  silvery  opalescence,  and  min- 
gling its  soft  luster  with  the  fading  glory  of 
the  west.  The  light  now  comes  from  two 
sources  and  both  of  them  pale  reflections  of 
the  sun  itself.  How  supremely  beautiful  it  is 
in  its  soft  glow,  how  wonderful  in  the  coloring 
it  creates — this  most  poetic  light  ever  seen  on 
land  or  sea !  And  how  impressive  it  makes  the 
Angelus  hour — the  hour  of  prayer  when  the 
tired  world  bends  the  knee  and  rests  a  moment 
lost  in  the  beauty  of  the  upper  sky! 

"Ave  Maria!     O'er  the  earth  and  sea 
That  heavenliest  hour  of  Heaven  is  worthiest  thee." 

IIow  many  hearts  have  overflowed  in  utterance, 
how  many  vows  have  been  made,  how  many 
faiths  have  been  pledged,  under  the  spell  of 


THE   GREAT   MIRROR 


91 


that  hour  of  love!  And  the  beads  that  have 
been  told,  the  cries  for  strength  and  help  that 
have  gone  up,  the  tears  of  repentance  and  de- 
spair that  have  fallen  in  that  hour  of  prayer! 

Man  is,  after  all,  an  emotional  animal.  He 
is  easily  brought  to  his  knees.  And  it  may  be 
a  very  slight  thing  that  brings  him  there.  The 
scent  of  meadow  grass,  the  wild  rose  by  the 
roadside,  the  moan  of  the  autumn  wind,  the 
falling  rain — any  one  of  them  may  be  suffi- 
cient. But  above  all  nature's  manifestations 
whereby  we  are  moved  emotionally  must  be 
placed  the  twilight  sea.  The  still  water  at 
evening  with  the  Angelus  light  upon  it  is  some- 
thing that  foolish  people  may  pooh-pooh  in 
public,  as  children  in  the  dark  whistle  to  keep 
their  courage  up ;  but  deep  down  in  their  hearts 
they  have  an  emotion  about  it — a  feeling  for 
its  beauty  and  a  love  for  its  tranquil  splendor, 
if  nothing  more. 

And  after  twilight  has  gone  and  the  moon 
alone  is  weaving  a  pathway  across  the  water, 
when  the  little  silver-rimmed  waves  are  gently 
lapping  on  the  beach  and  the  tall  pines  on  the 
headland  are  standing  motionless  against  the 
purple  sky,  what  fancies  come  and  go  across 
the  sea !  Memories,  associations,  aspirations, 
regrets,  how  they  pour  upon  us,  struck  into 


Effect  on  the 
emotions  of 
the  Angelas 
light. 


The  Angels 
Pathway. 


92 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Our  place 
in  7iature. 


Starlight 
on  the  sea. 


new  life  by  the  shimmering  ocean !  We  are 
subdued,  saddened,  perhaps  humbled  in  the 
presence  of  the  great  elements;  we  feel  our  in- 
consequence, our  insignificance.  What  place 
have  we  in  this  dream  of  glory,  this  golden 
patterning  upon  the  blue  ?  We  watch  it  weave 
and  ravel — that  track  of  moonlight  on  the  sea 
— and  fondly  imagine  that  it  shines  for  us 
alone;  but  it  glitters  just  as  brightly  along 
many  leagues  of  shore  and  sea  where  there  are 
no  eyes  to  see  it.  The  moonlight  and  the  sun- 
light with  their  broken  reflections  in  the  wave 
are  for  all  the  world  alike,  and  we — perhaps 
we  are  no  more  than  spots  of  color  like  the  tiny 
waves  that  make  up  the  Angels  Pathway,  or 
merely  diminutive  cubes  in  the  golden  mosaic 
of  Creation,  touched  into  momentary  light  by 
the  passing  splendor. 

It  would  seem  as  though  splendor  had 
reached  its  vanishing  point  when  the  moon, 
grown  cold  and  white,  sinks  below  the  western 
horizon.  But  no.  The  sky  turns  deep  purple, 
the  waves  snap  and  sparkle  in  sharp  points,  the 
shadows  gather  closer  about  the  ship;  but  the 
stars  are  the  brighter  for  their  dark  surround- 
ing sky,  and  for  the  darker  mirror  in  which 
they  are  reflected.  How  they  glitter  above  and 
below  !    Dark  fields  of  sky  dotted  with  the  splen- 


THE   GREAT   MIRKOR 


93 


dor  of  the  constellations  and  girdled  I)y  the 
Milky  Way — what  mantles  of  the  Invisible  are 
these !  And  what  elusive,  intangible  beauty ! 
How  strange  the  thought  that  the  light  al)Ove 
shines  through  the  blue,  not  from  it;  and  that 
from  below  it  comes  up  to  the  surface  as  from 
the  very  ocean  depths  ! 

Mere  points  of  light  glittering  in  the  air  and 
rocking  in  the  water !  Yet  these  were  the  guid- 
ing stars  of  the  Tyrian  and  Sidonian  ships 
long  centuries  ago.  The  Portuguese  and  the 
Italian  trusted  to  them  when  the  compass  for- 
sook them,  steering  by  the  North  Star — a  mere 
manifestation  of  a  world  millions  of  miles 
away.  And  are  we  not  to-day  trusting  to  the 
sun  shining  upon  a  sextant — another  light  far 
removed  and  uncomprehended  ?  Surely  we 
have  walked  by  faith  and  not  by  knowledge  all 
the  days  of  our  years. 

Midnight  and  stars  on  the  sea!  What  mys- 
teries lurk  in  those  soft  windless  nights  when 
the  black  yard-arms  go  swinging  slowly  across 
the  constellations,  when  the  black  smoke  trails 
far  behind,  and  the  blue-black  water  glances  all 
around !  Oh,  the  dark  beauty  of  the  blue,  the 
serene  splendor  of  the  starry  white,  the  inten- 
sity, the  immensity  of  this  transparent  world ! 
We  glide  through  it  steaming,  under  the  Bear 


Star-fields, 


Guiding 
stars. 


Dark  wind- 
less nights. 


94 


THE  OPAL  SE 


or  under  the  Centaur;  but  the  beauty  never 
fades,  the  mystery  never  vanishes.  We  are 
moving  hither  and  yon,  within  the  great  Blue 
Bowl,  wondering  at  the  light  that  comes  filtered 
through  the  encompassing  arch,  and  imagining 
vain  things  about  the  cause  of  it;  but  we  shall 
not  know.  Whether  we  steam  at  noonday  or 
at  midnight  we  circle  within  the  arch;  around 
and  around  the  uttermost  rim  perhaps,  but  we 
never  pass  out.  There  are  limitations — even  to 
human  fancy. 


The  Blue 
Bowl. 


CHAPTER    V 


OCEAN  PLAINS 


How  like  infinity  itself,  rather  than  its  sym- 
bol, seems  the  sea!  The  great  bulk  of  it,  the 
wide  spread  of  it,  the  far  reach  of  it,  are  ap- 
palling. Horizon  lines  are  not  its  boundaries, 
nor  blue  walls  of  sky  its  confining  barriers. 
There  is  no  place  of  its  beginning  nor  yet  again 
of  its  ending.  Its  continuity  is  unbroken.  The 
land  seems  but  a  handful  of  islands  sown  care- 
lessly here  and  there  upon  the  waters;  but  the 
sea  stretches  out  unceasingly,  keeps  circling  on 
forever.  The  sun  never  rises,  never  sets  upon 
this  kingdom  of  the  wave.  Alternate  rounds 
of  night  and  day  follow  each  other  about  the 
shining  surface,  but  it  knows  no  time,  no  past, 
present,  or  future.  It  had  no  youth,  though 
we  speak  of  its  formative  period;  it  will  never 
have  age,  though  we  speak  of  its  centuries  of 
existence.  Nothing  can  prevail  against  it.  No 
climate,  no  season,  no  convulsion  of  the  globe, 
can  more  than  agitate  it  for  the  passing  mo- 
ment.    Storms  rufile  its  surface,  winds  plow 

95 


ConlinuUy 
of  the  sea. 


96 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Eiifliiravce 
of  the  sea. 


The  Pacific 

from 

M exico. 


it  with  ocean  currents,  tides  sway  it  in  its 
basin,  but  it  alwa3's  returns  to  itself.  The  sun 
drinks  it  up  in  evaporation  day  by  day,  but 
it  is  not  empty;  all  the  rivers  run  into  it,  but 
it  is  not  full.  Oh,  the  immutability,  the  eter- 
nal endurance  of  the  sea !  The  earth  and  that 
Avhich  rests  within  it  is  ground  to  dust  at  last 
and  blown  about  the  windy  heavens;  but  the 
sea  never  fades  or  disintegrates.  Indestructible, 
imperishable,  it  lives  forever — always  the  same 
sea,  always  the  same  beauty. 

Type  of  all  the  oceans,  sea  of  all  the  seas, 
serene  in  its  unconquerable  might,  rests  the 
vast  Pacific.  Seen  from  the  high  tablelands 
of  Mexico  and  by  contrast  with  the  uneasy 
peaks  of  the  Sierra  Madre  how  supreme  is  its 
repose !  The  white  cone  of  Popocatapetl  seems 
struggling  with  its  encompassing  clouds  or 
straining  upward  at  the  heavens;  but  the  Pa- 
cific is  at  rest,  self-contained,  aspiring  to 
nothing,  disturbed  by  nothing.  How  could 
such  an  immensity  be  otherwise  !  The  "  West- 
ern Ocean  "  of  the  Greek,  the  Seven  Seas  of 
the  Arab,*  the  Atlantic  of  the  fifteenth-century 

*  The  Seven  Seas  were  the  Green  (Indian),  the  White 
(Mediterranean),  the  Black  (Euxine),  the  Blue  (Per- 
sian), the  Red  Sea,  the  Dead  Sea,  and  the  Caspian — all 
of  them  near  the  cradle  of  Islam. 


ocp:an  plains 


97 


explorers,  what  were  they  compared  with  the 
great  bulk  of  the  Pacific  leading  outward  to  the 
Southern  Ocean !  Its  expanses  are  unknown 
even  to  this  day.  Sails  come  and  go  along  the 
well-traveled  lanes,  but  in  the  hinter  sea  there 
are  lonely  wastes  that  only  the  explorer,  the 
whaler,  and  the  shipwrecked  have  seen.  Im- 
mense fields  of  water  never  parted  by  the  cut- 
water of  ship  or  steamer  lie  between  the  Cape 
of  Good  Hope  and  Cape  Horn;  and  as  for  the 
Polar  Seas  at  north  and  south,  they  still  keep 
silence  under  the  aurora  and  the  midnight  sun. 
Perhaps  half  of  the  Pacific  is  as  yet  unex- 
plored, uncharted;  and  lies  in  lonely  isolation, 
all  unconscious  and  all  careless  of  its  loneliness. 
What  signifies  the  coming  of  a  white-sailed 
ship  more  than  the  passing  of  a  gray-winged 
albatross  or  the  churn  of  a  steamer  more  than 
the  surface  lashing  of  a  cachalot ! 

In  summer  days  from  these  lofty  heights  you 
cannot  always  see  the  uttermost  rim  of  the 
Pacific.  The  horizon  line  is  lost  in  a  lilac  haze, 
a  colored  mist,  where  sails  of  ships  "hull 
down  "  glimmer  ghost-like  for  hours  and  then 
slowly  slip  below  the  verge.  The  further  dis- 
tance is  mystery;  and  so  thick  is  the  air  that 
even  the  nearer  sea  has  an  indefinite  look.  Far 
down  along  the  shore  the  white  edging  of  foam 


The  South- 
ern Ocean. 


Vnerplcred 
waters. 


98 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Lookinfi 
seaward 
from  Mexi- 
can high- 
lands. 


shows  where  the  swell  is  breaking  on  glittering 
beaches;  and  farther  out,  through  loopholes  in 
the  haze,  may  be  seen  the  flash  of  little  waves. 
The  smaller  movement  of  the  surface  is  ap- 
parent as  through  a  veil.  The  idle,  uncertain 
wind  ruffles  the  water  in  great  fields  of  green 
or  amethyst,  a  vagrant  cloud,  white  as  Oriza- 
ba's cap,  trails  its  reflection  in  the  deep;  and 
far  and  wide  upon  the  outstretched  waters 
is  the  rain  of  sunlight  falling  in  a  silver 
shower. 

But  there  is  a  greater  movement  beneath 
the  surface  that  shows  at  its  best  only  on  cool 
days  and  with  a  clear  horizon  line.  This  move- 
ment is  the  deep  ocean  swell  that  seems  always 
rising  and  sinking  in  or  near  the  Trade  Wind 
regions  of  the  Pacific.  The  surface  may  be  like 
glass,  but  underneath  there  is  the  heave  of  long 
far-traveling  undulations.  These  are  not  very 
high,  and  rise  to  no  distinct  crests;  but  they 
are  often  six  or  eight  hundred  feet  in  thick- 
ness, measuring  from  hollow  to  hollow;  and 
resemble  more  the  rolls  of  a  Dakota  prairie 
than  the  storm  waves  of  the  North  Atlantic. 

The  glide  forward  of  these  long  silent  ridges, 
the  ease  of  their  movement,  are  astonishing, 
Eidge  follows  ridge  and  hollow  succeeds  to 
hollow  without  the  slightest  sound  or  effort. 


Ocean 
*wells. 


OCEAN   PLAINS 


99 


Along  the  horizon  line  they  can  be  seen 
"  humped  up "  against  the  sky,  traveling  in 
unending  procession,  moving  in  rhythmic  se- 
quence, without  splash  of  wave  or  dash  of  foam. 
That  they  should  rise  and  fall  for  days  with 
an  unbroken  surface  is  still  more  astonishing. 
They  roll  and  unroll  the  reflection  of  the  heav- 
ens, they  flash  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars  on 
their  slopes,  they  mirror  the  dawns  and  the  twi- 
light upon  their  hilltops;  but  they  never  break 
with  their  own  weight,  nor  form  false  curves 
with  their  own  motion.  When  they  run  over 
shoals  or  dash  up  a  beach  they  rise  into  crests 
and  fall  like  other  waves;  but  in  deep  water 
they  come  smooth-faced,  lift  the  ship  with  a 
great  slow  heave,  slip  under  it,  and  are  gone 
on  the  other  side,  with  no  flaw  made  in  the 
glassy  surface,  no  disturbance  of  form,  no 
shock  of  breaking  water.  When  a  breeze 
springs  up  it  puts  tiny  facets  along  the  ridges 
and  crests,  and  these  may  run  into  a  rough 
chop  sea  without  seriously  disturbing  the  move- 
ment of  the  swells.  It  is  not  until  heavy  storm 
waves  set  in  that  the  sequence  is  broken. 

But  these  deep  rolling  undulations  are 
known  chiefly  in  the  tracks  of  the  Trade  Winds 
and  extend  over  into  the  Regions  of  Calms. 
They  are  set  in  motion — kept  in  motion — by 


Movement 
of  the 
awella. 


Glass;/  sur- 
faces tin- 
broken. 


Region  of 
the  Trade 
Winds. 


100 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Slight  sur- 
face inove- 
inents. 


the  steady  pressure  of  the  Trades.  Elsewhere  on 
tropic  seas  the  surface  ma}'  be  smooth,  and  ap- 
parently flat,  though  there  are  always  some 
slight  movements  beneath  the  surface,  such,  for 
instance,  as  the  tailings  of  distant  storms,  the 
heave  of  the  tide,  or  the  interchange  of  cur- 
rents. These  are,  however,  little  noticed  from 
the  ship  in  mid-ocean.  Sometimes  there  are 
days  succeeding  days  when  the  only  break  upon 
the  surface  is  made  by  the  cut-water,  and  the 
only  foam  seen  is  that  pushed  out  by  the  shoul- 
der of  the  ship. 

Not  unprofitable  are  the  sea  studies  made 
from  the  deck  of  the  ship,  even  though  that 
ship  be  an  ocean  steamer.  The  ancient  mariner 
v/ho  passed  his  boyhood  in  a  whaler,  becalmed 
in  the  horse  latitudes  or  freezing  off  the  fag- 
end  of  New  Zealand,  has  some  contempt  for  the 
modern  wedge  of  steel  that  plies  between  the 
continents.  He  thinks  we  have  fallen  upon  evil 
times  and  that  we  no  longer  see  the  ocean  or 
enjoy  travel  upon  it.  The  thought  is  not  new. 
Our  grandfathers  argued  thus  and  so  in  favor 
of  the  stage  coach.  Every  age  is  the  "  good  old 
time  "  save  our  own ;  and  every  ship  looks  ro- 
mantic but  the  one  we  sail  in.  Yet  change  as 
we  may  our  vehicles  of  travel,  the  sea  remains 
the  same;  and  if  we  have  observant  eyes  there 


The  ocean 
steamer. 


Modern 
ships  and 
sea  travel. 


OCEAN   PLAINS 


101 


are  still  beautiful  things  to  be  seen  from 
steamer  decks  or  even  from  the  bridge  of  that 
peace  destroyer,  the  private  yacht. 

And  a  fast-traveling  ocean  liner  of  twenty 
thousand  tons  will  make  beautiful  things  out 
of  the  water  she  passes  through  and  pushes 
aside.  The  little  dash  of  spray  under  the  ves- 
sel's fore-foot  is  of  slight  interest,  but  the  tre- 
mendous furrow  turned  and  rolled  out  by  the 
shoulder  of  the  ship  is  worth  some  study.  A 
wall  of  water  goes  bumping,  dancing  outward 
with  a  shock  that  immediately  shows  in  mil- 
lions of  tiny  bubbles,  in  vivid  greens  and  blues, 
and  in  curling  crests  of  foam.  With  foam 
comes  dazzling  light;  and  nothing  is  so  daz- 
zling as  foam,  save  only  the  newly  fallen  snow. 
A  probable  explanation  of  whiteness  in  the 
snow  is  that  each  flake  is  a  crystal — a  prism — 
that  shows  on  its  edges  all  the  colors  of  the 
rainbow.  Color  is  merely  disintegrated  white 
light  and,  when  thrown  together  in  such  masses 
as  the  snow  crystals,  it  re-combines  and  comes 
to  the  eye  as  an  intense  light.  In  the  case  of 
foam  the  break  of  the  wave  allows  air  to  inter- 
mingle with  the  water.  Countless  tiny  bub- 
bles, half  water,  half  air,  are  brought  into 
existence;  and  each  one  of  these  displays  on  its 
surface  the  colors  of  the  rainbow.     The  unity 


The  Bhip'a 
furrow. 


Whiteness 
of  foam. 


102 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Crests  of 
foam. 


in  mass  of  these  colors  again  produces  to  our 
eyes  the  effect  of  white  light. 

It  is  of  no  great  importance,  so  far  as  the 
foam  at  the  shoulder  showing  white  is  con- 
cerned, what  may  be  the  local  color  of  the  water 
through  which  the  ship  is  traveling.  Some- 
times there  is  a  great  milky  crest  of  it  thrust 
up  and  out  from  the  ship  while  slipping  back- 
ward into  the  hollow  are  long  strings  and  rib- 
bons of  white.  Very  beautiful  are  these  pat- 
terns of  white  that  appear  with  some  regularity 
up  and  down  the  dark  hollows  of  the  first 
waves.  They  are  soon  dashed  to  pieces  by  the 
wash  along  the  steamer's  side;  but,  for  a  mo- 
ment or  more,  they  are  flung  into  forms  that 
suggest  thin  drifts  of  snow  upon  blue-green 
ice,  or  festoonings  of  lace  upon  an  emerald 
field,  or,  again,  ropes  of  diamonds  decorating 
mirrors  in  some  winter  palace  of  the  fairies. 

Nor  are  these  festoonings  always  pure  white. 
At  evening  when  the  sun  is  on  the  horizon,  its 
light  may  strike  the  clouds  above  or  abeam  of 
the  ship,  and  turn  them  lilac  or  yellow  hued 
or  rose  colored.  This  cloud-coloring  is  in- 
stantly repeated  in  the  foam  of  the  shoulder 
swell — sometimes  showing  as  pink  on  aqua- 
marine and  again  as  gold  on  deep  blue.  The 
vagaries  of  light  with  their  consequent  side  re- 


Colored 
crests. 


OCEAN   PLAINS 


103 


flections  are  innumerable,  utterly  impossible  of 
recording;  and  yet  always  astonishing  with 
each  new  manifestation. 

The  light  that  lies  in  foam  is  not  eclipsed 
when  the  sun  goes  under  a  cloud.  It  is  still 
very  white;  and  even  at  midnight,  with  no 
moon  or  stars,  the  break  of  the  wave  is  dis- 
tinctly seen  as  a  pale  flash  in  the  darkness. 
Every  one  who  has  experienced  a  heavy  storm 
at  sea  will  not  forget  the  ghostly  gleam  of  the 
white  caps  in  the  night  and  the  great  dash  of 
white  waves  up  and  over  the  ship's  bow.  The 
darkest  night  with  clouds  will  not  completely 
eclipse  the  light  of  the  wave  crest. 

Up  from  the  foam  of  the  wave  is  flung  the 
spray  of  the  wave.  The  thin  cap  is  tossed  in 
air  by  the  lateral  thrust  of  the  wave  base 
and  is  scattered  into  tiny  drops  that  flash  in 
the  sunlight.  The  brightness  of  this  spray  is, 
again,  dazzling.  It  seems  like  liquid  light 
flung  skyward  from  some  subterranean  foun- 
tain. Even  as  it  flashes  it  seems  to  disappear 
in  water  dust,  to  be  blown  to  pieces  by  the 
winds,  and  drifted  aft  as  a  mist.  When  it 
reaches  the  proper  angle,  and  is  struck  by  the 
sun  anew,  the  mist  turns  into  a  rainbow.  It 
is  only  a  little  bow — an  amusing  little  arch — 
that  we  watch  with  perhaps  a  languid  interest. 


Wave  crests 
at  night. 


Spray 


Rainbows. 


104 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  ship's 

■wake. 


Silver  light 
in  the  wake. 


Phosphores- 
cent light. 


Frequently  there  are  several  of  them  at  once 
and  they  travel  with  the  ship,  maintaining 
their  form  and  place,  as  long  as  the  spray 
drives  and  the  sun  shines. 

Back  from  the  dash  of  the  fore-foot  and  the 
spray  of  the  shoulder  are  the  tumbled  waters 
of  the  stern — the  waters  beaten  into  tiny  bub- 
bles by  the  churn  of  the  propellers.  The  larger 
bubbles  soon  disappear — evanesce  as  it  were — 
but  far  away  behind  the  effect  remains,  the 
wake  is  apparent.  This  slash  in  the  sea  shows 
not  blue  but  green,  the  local  color  of  the  water ; 
and  not  until  long  after  the  ship  has  passed 
does  it  smooth  over  and  return  to  its  reflected 
sea-blue.  At  night  the  trail  of  the  steamer 
instead  of  being  green,  sometimes  looks  like  a 
pathway  of  shining  silver  running  through 
deep  pansy-purple.  But  this  is  due  to  no  nor- 
mal coloring.  It  is  phosphorescent  light — 
something  that  will  bear  a  word  of  explanation. 

It  seems  that  the  surface  of  the  ocean  is,  in 
certain  areas,  covered  with  swarms  of  animal- 
cule. Drifting  upon  the  water  the  passing  of 
the  ship  disturbs  these  small  creatures,  and,  in 
fright  or  anger,  they  emit  a  white  light  like  a 
tiny  spark  of  electricity.  It  flashes  for  a  mo- 
ment and  then  goes  out  to  be  renewed  again 
in   a   few   moments.      When   the  ship   rushes 


OCEAN   PLAINS 


105 


through  a  great  drift  of  these  minute  organ- 
isms, and  millions  of  them  are  overset  and 
frightened  into  fire,  the  effect  upon  the  sea  is 
very  marked.  It  glows  like  a  metallic  surface. 
This  is  perhaps  seen  at  its  best  from  the  taff- 
rail  looking  down  the  wake;  but  the  bow  and 
sides  of  the  ship — wherever  the  water  is  dis- 
turbed— will  show  lines  of  pale  fire  as  well, 
while  outside  of  the  disturbed  area  the  sea  re- 
mains its  normal  darkness.  A  disturbance  of 
the  surface  is  the  usual  cause  of  this  phenom- 
ena; though  in  southern  seas  oftentimes  there 
are  great  areas  of  animalculse  that,  of  their 
own  volition,  will  glow  at  night  and  cast  a 
light  upon  spars,  and  sails,  and  human  faces 
almost  as  powerful  as  moonlight. 

Equatorial  waters  are  the  most  favorable  for 
phosphorescent  appearances  though  similar  ap- 
pearances are  frequently  seen  at  the  colder 
north.  The  tropical  seas,  with  their  heated  sur- 
faces and  thick  strata  of  atmosphere,  are  also 
famous  places  for  electric  phenomena  and  for 
illusions  of  the  air.  Here  is  seen  the  St.  Elmo's 
Light,  the  fata  morgana  or  misplaced  image, 
and  also  the  true  sea  mirage.  The  last  named 
appears  when  the  sea  is  calm,  the  weather  very 
hot,  and  the  air  strata  above  the  water  are  very 
thick.     It  looks  like  a  long,  glittering  band  of 


Fields  or 
animalcuhf. 


Si.  Elmc\ 
Light. 


106 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Sea 
mirage. 


Fata 
morgana. 


The  ship  in 
the  air. 


silver  lying  along  the  horizon,  and  quivers 
slightly  or  shifts  place  not  unlike  the  aurora. 
The  sailors  explain  it  by  saying  the  water  is 
"reflecting  itself,"  and  possibly  that  is  true, 
the  water  reflection  being  seen  upon  the  air; 
but  a  similar  illusion  is  produced  by  the  sky 
being  reflected  from  the  denser  air  that  lies 
along  the  surface  of  the  sea. 

The  water  mirage  is  a  very  beautiful  illusion 
but  not  one  of  frequent  occurrence.  Nor  is 
the  fata  morgana,  where  things  are  seen  out  of 
their  place  and  "  upside  down,"  an  everyday 
happening.  The  object  is  generally  noticed 
"  looming "  high  above  the  horizon,  and  is 
usually  a  ship,  an  island,  or  a  coast  city.  Sea 
captains  frequently  tell  tales  of  seeing  their 
port  of  destiny  in  the  sky  long  before  the  port 
itself  comes  up  over  the  ocean's  edge;  and  the 
sight  of  a  ship  in  the  air,  hanging  masts  down- 
ward, is  something  that  almost  every  sailor  can 
spin  a  yarn  about.  The  reversed  ship  does  not, 
however,  appear  every  day  or  every  year;  and 
many  a  tourist,  boastful  of  the  number  of  trips 
to  Europe  he  has  made,  has  never  seen  it  at 
all.  The  cause  for  the  distorted  and  misplaced 
image  is  the  thick  strata  of  low-lying  air  which 
bends  the  light  ray  so  that  we  see  not  in  a 
straight  line  but  in  a  curved  line.     From  ex- 


OCEAN   PLAINS 


107 


perience  we  think  we  see  the  ship  in  the  air 
by  the  straight  ray,  whereas  in  reality  we  see 
the  ship  on  the  water  down  below  the  horizon 
line,  by  the  bent  ray. 

The  sea  air,  when  it  becomes  thickened  by 
heat  or  is  moisture-laden,  often  shows  as  a 
silver  or  gray  or  pale  blue  mist.  Thin  sheets 
of  it  may  be  seen  in  the  early  morning  hover- 
ing above  the  surface  of  the  water,  making  per- 
haps strange  illusions — strange  likenesses  to 
things  seen  upon  the  land.  For  frequently 
mist  or  fog  will  throw  a  yellowish  reflection 
on  the  water  giving  it  a  look  like  drifted  sand; 
and  the  patches  of  blue  sky  reflected  in  spots 
through  the  yellow  produce  the  strange  effect 
of  blue  lakes  in  a  desert.  The  space  directly 
overhead  usually  shows  no  definite  patches  of 
mist  and  from  its  diffused  white  light  it  would 
seem  as  though  the  upper  air  hold  the  mist  in 
solution.  It  is  certainly  a  moist  upper  air  that 
is  responsible  for  such  effects  as  "  the  white 
horizon  ";  and  it  is  the  same  air,  hanging  above 
the  still  sea  and  reflected  in  it,  that  gives  the 
pearl-like  surface  of  the  water  so  much  fancied 
by  our  modern  marine  painters. 

A  morning  mist  veil  at  sea  stretching  across 
the  illuminated  cast,  making  the  rose  of  the 
clouds  and  the  azure  of  the  sky  look  faint  and 


Effect  of 
mitt. 


The  white 
horizon. 


108 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  mist 
fell  as  n 
creator  of 
color- 
beauty. 


Lunar 
rainbowa. 


dream-like,  is  always  a  potent  source  of  beauty. 
And  of  mystery.  How  cunningly  Turner  used 
it  to  throw  a  glamour  and  a  charm  about  his 
towers  and  turrets  and  cities  by  the  sea !  How 
cleverly  and  yet  how  truly  Monet,  in  his 
Thames  pictures,  revealed  the  beauties  of  sun- 
light by  filtering  them  through  this  same  veil- 
ing, this  same  beautiful  mist  of  the  morning! 
As  for  Claude  Lorraine,  whose  name  our  Eng- 
lish friends  still  invoke  as  though  no  modern 
had  ever  reached  up  to  him,  save  Turner,  what 
charm  would  his  classic  bays  and  harbors  pos- 
sess if  it  were  not  for  their  golden  sea-mist  of 
sunset ! 

And  what  pictures,  never  painted  by  master 
ancient  or  modern,  are  to  be  seen  by  the 
weather  rail  at  night  when  the  lunar  rainbow 
with  its  arch  of  subtle  light-and-dark  follows 
on  the  ship's  beam,  when  the  purple  water 
flashes  through  the  patches  of  the  mist,  and 
overhead  the  moon  is  like  a  silver  disk,  the 
stars  like  phosphorescent  points !  The  summer 
nights  upon  the  vEgean  when  the  small  island 
steamer  sweeps  you  past  Syrian  ships  becalmed 
— their  hulls  lost  in  the  low-lying  vapors,  their 
sails  looming  above  the  drifts  into  the  white 
moonlight — are  never  to  be  forgotten.  They 
are  only  impressions  of  intangible  light  and 


OCEAN   PLAINvS 


109 


color,  momentary  revelations  of  pictorial  po- 
etry without  literary  meaning  or  association; 
and  yet  very  insistent  revelations,  very  striking  ' 
impressions.  We  do  not  readily  define  them 
but  vre  feel  their  effect  upon  us,  nevertheless. 
It  is  an  effect  analogous  perhaps  to  that  pro- 
duced by  music — pale  music  in  a  minor  key, 
dreamy  music  that  moves  in  slow-heaving  ca- 
dences or  faints  in  realms  of  sun-shot  haze  or 
gleams  in  chords  of  lustrous  silver. 

The  division  line  between  mist  and  fog  lies 
somewhere  in  the  aerial  envelope.  The  same 
indefinite  line  separates  fog  from  cloud,  though 
they  are  practically  one  and  the  same  thing. 
Both  are  visible  vapors,  the  one  several  thou- 
sand feet  in  the  air,  the  other  lying  along  the 
surface  of  the  earth  or  sea.  Both  differ  from 
mist  only  in  that  they  are  more  concentrated 
in  form  and  strata.  And  there  are  beauties  of 
color  in  the  fog  as  in  the  mist.  It  is  by  no 
means  such  an  unalloyed  evil  as  the  nervous 
person  who  dreads  a  steamer  collision  fancies. 
Instead  of  dull  leaden  hues  the  fog  is  often 
luminous  with  pale  blues,  lilacs,  mauves,  and 
silvers;  and  it  is  never  remotely  approached  to 
black,  though  the  term  "  black  fog  "  is  applied 
to  banks  denser  than  the  ordinary.  The  colors 
are  not,  however,  usually  seen  because  people 


Summer 
nights  on 
the  ^ii  gam 


Fogs  at 
sea. 


Black  fog 


110 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Beauty  of 

fog  effects. 


Icebergs. 


will  not  try  to  discover  anything  but  discom- 
fort in  a  fog.  The  drive  of  the  steamer 
through  the  vapor  pall,  with  the  siren  shrieking 
every  few  moments,  is  counted  one  of  the  hor- 
rors of  the  North  Atlantic  voyage.  And,  true 
enough,  it  is  not  always  a  pleasant  or  agreeable 
happening ;  but  the  fog  is  an  ocean  beauty  none 
the  less.  Standing  beside  the  lookout  at  the 
bow  as  the  steamer  plunges  forward  into  the  un- 
known, each  new  scrap  of  sea  is  eagerly  scanned 
as  it  rushes  aft  along  the  ship,  the  waters  flash 
and  disappear,  the  fog-bank  cleaves  in  twain, 
we  speed  on  and  away  through  changing  clouds 
of  blue  and  silver.  There  is  an  exhilaration 
about  it  to  which  the  warning  note  of  the  siren 
perhaps  adds  the  spice  of  danger. 

The  danger  is  the  more  real  on  the  New- 
foundland Banks  when  the  water  and  the  air 
suddenly  grow  cold.  That  is  the  first  indica- 
tion of  icebergs;  and  ice  is  perhaps  more  fatal 
in  collision  than  a  sister  ship  or  a  water-logged 
derelict.  It  is  some  time  perhaps  before  the 
bergs  appear  on  the  horizon.  When  they  finally 
lift  into  view  we  are  perhaps  surprised  by  their 
modest  dimensions,  and  wonder  that  such 
small  scraps  of  ice  could  cause  so  great  a  chill 
upon  the  waters.  But  doubtless  we  fail  to  con- 
sider that  more  than  four-fifths  of  the  white 


OCEAIS-   PLAINS 


111 


monument  lies  below  the  water  level.  The 
mass  underneath  is  enormous,  though  how,  even 
with  all  its  bulk,  a  dozen  bergs  or  less  can  chill 
water  and  air  twenty  or  thirty  miles  away  is 
something  of  a  puzzle. 

Close  to  view  the  iceberg  is  often  wonderful 
in  color.  With  different  lights  it  takes  all  tints 
of  azure,  turquoise,  and  Nile  green;  and  in  its 
shadows  it  shows  all  shades  of  blue  and  violet. 
The  sheer  ice  wall  is  usually  a  dark  sea-green, 
suggesting  the  local  color  of  the  water  from 
which  it  has  been  formed;  but  when  the  sky  is 
clouded  it  often  shows  a  dead-white  surface. 
After  it  is  honeycombed  by  sun  and  disinte- 
grated by  warm  winds  it  loses  much  of  its 
bright  coloring.  In  form  the  floating  berg 
takes  on  fantastic  shapes,  because  the  harder 
cores  of  it  are  the  last  to  melt ;  and  they  often 
stand  in  strange  towers,  columns,  and  turrets 
after  the  softer  parts  have  cracked  and  fallen 
away. 

The  northern  fields  of  ice,  with  all  the 
splendor  of  the  arctic  twilights  and  midnights, 
the  auroras,  sim-dogs,  brilliant  colorings  and 
clear  reflections  are  wonderful  enough,  if  we 
are  to  believe  the  tales  of  our  explorers ;  but 
they  seem  to  have  little  to  do  with  the  sea. 
Once  water  is  frozen  and   its  pliant   surface 


Color  of  the 
icebergs 


Turreled 
forms  of  ice- 
bergs. 


Polar  ice- 
fields 


112 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Snow  at 
sea 


Fnlhvg 
rain 


destroyed,  its  identity  is  gone.  The  pack-ice 
and  hummock-ice  do  not  even  suggest  frozen 
waves.  They  are  merely  a  gorging  and  heaping 
of  the  ice-fields. 

Snow,  too,  seems  foreign  to  the  sea,  though, 
of  course,  it  does  fall  into  the  open  oceans  in 
the  temperate  and  arctic  zones.  Even  a  cross- 
ing of  the  North  Atlantic  during  the  winter 
months  is  frequently  accompanied  by  a  snow 
storm.  It  is  all  in  the  air — a  driving  of  white 
particles  across  a  dark  sky,  down,  down  to  a 
darker  sea.  Instantly  the  snow  touches  the 
water  it  perishes,  vanishes  without  leaving  the 
slightest  impression  or  trace  of  itself.  Some- 
times in  a  very  heavy  downfall  it  will  make  the 
sea  surface  look  white  for  a  few  minutes;  but 
the  salt  water  soon  absorbs  it,  destroys  it. 

Eain  at  sea  when  it  falls  in  vertical  lines 
and  strikes  flat  water  does  so  with  considerable 
force.  The  impact  of  each  drop  makes  a  pit 
in  the  surface,  a  splash,  and  a  rebound.  When 
it  is  falling  rapidly,  it  not  only  creates  some- 
thing of  a  roar  but  also  something  of  a  bub- 
bling surface  upon  the  sea.  In  the  tropics, 
where  the  drops  are  often  heavy  and  close  to- 
gether, the  sea  will  be  foaming-white  even  in 
the  darkness  of  night;  and  after  the  rain  has 
passed  the  surface  will  smooth  out,  look  oily 


OCEAN    PLAINS 


113 


and  glassy,  and  rest  perfectly  still  as  though 
beaten  into  quietude. 

The  driving  rain  that  waves  through  the  air, 
like  the  folds  of  a  huge  flag  unfurling  in  the 
breeze,  is  something  very  different.  The  drops 
are  small  and  fierce  enough  in  their  impact,  but 
striking  the  sea  diagonally  they  make  no  pit- 
ting. Tlrey  seem  to  lash  the  surface  with  long 
lines  of  trembling  spray,  or  break  it  into  little 
waves  that  go  shivering  and  quivering  in  er- 
ratic dashes  with  each  new  gust;  but  the  effect 
is  only  of  momentary  duration.  In  heavy  seas, 
when  the  wind  is  blowing  with  hurricane  force, 
the  fall  of  rain  is  even  less  marked.  The  wind 
seems  to  drive  it  into  mist  and  mingle  it  with 
scud  and  rack,  until  at  times  they  are  not  dis- 
tinguishable apart. 

Sometimes  before  thunder  showers  and 
squalls  of  wind  comes  an  odd  feature  of  the 
sea — the  water  spout.  It  is  caused  by  wind 
and,  so  far  as  I  know,  is  the  same  phenomenon 
as  the  great  dust  whirls  which  one  sees  on  the 
deserts.  The  dust  whirl  is  a  long,  thin  column, 
sometimes  twenty-five  hundred  feet  in  height, 
which  moves  in  a  solemn,  stately  fashion  across 
the  sands,  its  head  in  the  sky,  its  foot  on  the 
earth,  catching  up  sand  and  dust  in  its  hollow 
trough,  whirling  it  high  in  air,  and  finally, 


Drinng 
rain. 


The  crater 
spoul. 


114 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  spout; 
how  formed. 


when  loosed  from  the  vortex,  allowing  it  to 
fall  slowly  back  to  earth.  The  water  spout 
is  not  unlike  it  but  is  a  trifle  more  energetic. 
It  usually  forms  just  under  the  black  wind 
clouds  that  immediately  precede  the  gray  rain 
clouds;  and  it  extends  down  from  the  clouds 
to  the  water  in  a  "  spout "  or  funnel.  When  it 
meets  the  water  it  causes  some  agitation,  but 
not  nearly  so  much  as  is  pictured  by  imagina- 
tive writers.  Sometimes  water  or  its  spray  is 
carried  up  in  the  whirling  funnel,  but  usually 
there  is  only  a  foaming  and  dashing  of  the 
sea  surface  directly  under  its  foot.  After  ten 
or  fifteen  minutes  the  spout  generally  breaks 
and  the  contents  (if  there  be  any)  descend  as 
rain.  Its  appearance  is  usually  very  deceptive. 
We  think  it  is  a  column  of  water  extending 
from  sea  to  cloud,  but  in  reality  it  is  a  column 
of  mist  surrounding  a  central  axis  of  rarefac- 
tion. It  moves  with  the  storm  and  often  has 
brother  spouts  for  company. 

Beautiful,  indeed,  is  the  clearing  away  at 
evening  after  rain  and  storm,  when  with  lifting 
clouds  and  vapors  comes  deep  blue  sky;  and 
perhaps  far  away  a  faint  gray  something  is  seen 
taking  form  along  the  horizon.  Land  ho  !  is  the 
cry  forward.  But  where  ?  It  is  not  readily  seen 
even  when  pointed  out  to  us.     Our  eyes  grope 


Erpninq 
lil/ht  after 
rain. 


OCEAN   PLAINS 


115 


along  the  dim  sea-line  looking  for  land,  which 
is  really  the  last  thing  we  should  look  for  if 
we  wish  to  see  it.  Presently  we  seize  upon  a 
pale  outline  that  seems  to  enclose  a  pale  blue 
cloud.  That  is  usually  the  first  appearance  of 
land  from  the  sea,  especially  if  it  be  a  moun- 
tainous coast.  The  rocky  top  shows  first.  It 
is  seen  through  a  thinner  stratum  of  air  than 
that  lying  close  down  along  the  water,  and 
hence  appears  clearer  and  nearer.  As  we  ap- 
proach, it  begins  to  darken  in  color  and  take 
sharper  outline  against  the  sky;  but  it  still  re- 
mains as  a  flat  cloud-like  affair  with  its  base 
cut  off  by  thick  layers  of  atmosphere.  When 
it  finally  begins  to  show  depth  as  well  as  width 
and  height,  it  also  begins  to  reach  down  and 
have  a  foundation  in  the  sea.  Last  of  all  is 
seen  the  white  foam  of  the  beach  or  the  dash  of 
waves  upon  the  rocky  coast. 

Quite  the  opposite  of  this  is  the  approach 
to  a  low-lying  shore  where  there  are  no  moun- 
tains or  headlands  or  even  tall  trees,  where 
there  are  long  lines  of  sand  spits  and  flattened 
dunes  creeping  dowm  to  the  water's  edge.  The 
land  now  shows  as  a  long  half-submerged  line 
upon  the  water  like  an  enormous  sea  serpent 
stretched  out  asleep.  It  lifts  a  little  as  we 
approach,  shows  inequalities  here  and  there; 


Land  in 
light. 


Appearance 
of  rocky 
coaat*. 


A  ppearance 
of  low- 
lying 
thoret. 


116 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


A  pproach 
to  lagoon 
islands. 


but  it  is  some  time  before  it  takes  definite  body 
and  becomes  substantial  shore. 

Still  different  is  the  approach  to  what  mari- 
ners call  the  "  low "  islands  or  "  lagoon " 
islands — the  coral  formations  of  the  tropic 
seas.  Again,  the  last  thing  to  look  for  is  an 
island.  The  cocoanut  palms,  mangroves,  and 
other  large-leaved  trees  that  usually  grow  upon 
these  atolls,  make  up,  at  a  distance,  a  band  of 
olive-green  that  cuts  in  between  the  gray-blue 
of  the  sky  and  the  deeper  blue  of  the  sea.  It 
rests  between  the  sea  and  sky  for  a  long  time 
as  a  mere  puzzling  coloration.  As  we  come 
nearer,  however,  another  band  of  cream  color 
forms  under  the  green  and  becomes  recogniza- 
ble as  a  beach ;  while  still  below  the  cream  color 
is  a  line  of  shining  white,  indicating  perhaps 
where  breakers  are  dashing  over  coral  reefs. 

The  rounded  island  of  the  Pacific,  lying 
like  an  emerald  set  in  a  sapphire  sea,  how 
beautiful  it  seems  to  wanderers  of  the  watery 
waste!  Low  down  it  rests  upon  the  great 
bosom — an  oasis  in  the  desert,  an  island  of 
palms  in  the  wilderness,  a  haven  of  rest  with- 
out tumult  save  of  the  surf,  without  sound  save 
of  the  surge,  without  time  save  of  the  tide. 
Born  in  no  convulsive  throe  of  nature  but 
builded  skyward  through  many  a  year  by  the 


Islands  of 
the  Pacific. 


OCEAN   PLAINS 


117 


ceaseless  energy  of  tiny  polyps,  a  mere  point 
of  limestone  in  the  deep,  how  firmly  it  with- 
stands the  wash  of  the  sea  and  the  wear  of  the 
wave!  Tides  ebb  and  flow,  winds  come  and 
storms  rush  by,  but  the  citadel  grows  stronger, 
lifts  higher,  becomes  more  beautiful.  With  its 
ferns  and  shrubs  and  waving  palms  serenely 
it  rests  under  the  southern  sun  and  sky,  a  mere 
speck  in  space;  yet  what  a  refuge,  what  an 
earthly  paradise! 

Those  clustered  islands  of  the  Pacific  that 
welcomed  Cook  and  sheltered  the  mutineers  of 
the  Bounty,  what  romance  clings  about  them 
still !  Utopias  of  the  sea,  where  nature  al- 
ways smiles  and  art  is  still  an  unkno\vn  story, 
were  ever  yet  such  fairylands  for  poetry  and 
song !  And  how  inevitably  they  provoke  a  con- 
trast and  pose  again  the  question  of  human 
happiness !  What  vantage  comes  to  us  from 
a  boasted  civilization,  how  bettered  are  we  by 
place  and  power  and  wealth?  Men  beat  down 
friend  and  foe  alike,  and  uproot  beauty  on 
the  earth  and  in  their  own  hearts,  to  gain  an 
evidence  of  riches;  but  what  avails  the  horde 
that  brings  no  joy?  Heap  surplus  upon 
abundance,  crown  knowledge  with  enlighten- 
ment if  you  will ;  but  a  naked  savage  by  these 
southern  shores  with  his  bread-fruit,  his  sun- 


Cornl 
groups. 


Romance 
of  the 
South  Srn 
islands. 


118 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Concerning 
happiness. 


The  modern 
view  of  hap- 
piness. 


shine,  and  his  music  of  the  seas  is  more  con- 
tent. Happiness  is  not  hidden  in  a  bank  vault 
or  a  philosophy;  it  is  in  the  free  air,  under  the 
blue  sky,  in  the  mountains,  on  the  prairies,  by 
the  seashore.  Contentment  is  not  attained  by 
possessions  or  positions,  or  pursuit  about  the 
globe ;  it  comes  to  those  who  will  but  fold  their 
hands  and  wait. 

Old  truths  these — old  when  the  world  was 
young — but  the  new  generation  flouts  them, 
scorns  them,  laughs  at  them,  thinking  that  the 
tale  of  human  happiness  shall  be  different  with 
this  new  time.  It  nurses  the  strange  belief  that 
all  the  good  things  of  life  can  be  had  by  a 
bold  dash  in  the  lists  of  Mammon,  that  every 
prize  is  there  and  within  the  reach  of  the 
knight  who  will  but  ride  boldly.  Ever  the 
golden  bugles  are  calling,  calling  to  enter  the 
lists.  And  the  gentle  song  of  the  sea,  wooing 
to  love  and  to  beauty,  is  lost  in  the  clash  of  the 
conflict. 


CHAPTEE   YI 
THE  WIND'S  WILL 

The  word  "  restless "  that  we  continually 
apply  to  the  sea  is  somewhat  inappropriate  and 
misleading.  If  there  is  one  thing  above  an- 
other that  the  sea  would  avoid  it  is  restless- 
ness. It  is  ever  seeking  to  keep  still,  to  lie  flat, 
to  maintain  its  normal  equilibrium;  but  it  is 
ever  being  pushed  out  of  place  and  jostled  into 
dancing  points  by  the  winds.  The  winds  are 
the  disturbers  of  the  peace,  the  uneasy  wan- 
derers that  keep  driving  the  water  hither  and 
yon,  from  deep  to  reef  and  from  reef  to  deep 
again.  At  first  the  water  offers  some  resist- 
ance, some  defense.  It  is  not  a  powerful  op- 
position, however,  and  the  winds  soon  break 
through  it ;  but  the  water  has  a  way  of  reassert- 
ing itself  at  the  first  opportunity. 

The  defense  is  merely  the  covering  that 
spreads  over  water  when  not  in  motion — the 
skin  that  holds  it  intact  until  shattered  by 
some  sudden  shock  or  jar.  This  skin  is  an 
elastic  envelope    that    often    requires    a    hard 

119 


The  dis- 
turbing 
wind*. 


120 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  skin  of 
water  drops. 


Covering  of 
t)ie  sea- 
surface. 


Stretching 
of  the 
covering. 


shaking  to  break.  The  dewdrop  on  a  leaf  may 
be  rolled  about  very  roughly  without  losing  its 
form ;  and  the  beaded  drops  that  edge  a  window 
sash  in  time  of  storm  are  not  easily  shaken 
from  their  moorings.  As  for  the  form  of  the 
ordinary  raindrop,  and  its  persistence  in  round- 
ness even  when  hurled  violently  through  the 
air,  they  are  both  due  to  the  skin  or  envelope 
that  encloses  the  drop. 

This  same  thin  covering  protects  the  surface 
of  the  sea  in  periods  of  calm.  It  has  no  name 
(though  the  Provengaux  speak  of  a  mer  d'huile) 
and  is  hardly  to  be  analyzed;  yet  its  presence 
is  apparent  enough.  When  a  little  puff  of 
wind  strikes  the  surface  a  stretching  of  the 
envelope  is  noticeable,  A  ruffling  and  a  quiv- 
ering seem  to  run  over  the  water.  But  these 
"  flaws  "  of  wind  or  "  cat's-paws  "  come  and  go 
and  leave  no  permanent  disorder.  The  skin 
gives  like  thin  india-rubber,  but  it  does  not 
part  or  break.  It  is  really  quite  tough  and 
when  oil  is  added  to  it  (as  sometimes  in  storm) 
the  mixture  or  combination  is  strong  enough 
to  baffle  a  stiff  breeze. 

When,  however,  the  puffs  of  wind  grow  too 
strong  or  too  steady,  tlie  shivers  and  quivers 
that  run  across  the  water  al  last  break  the 
surface  here  and  there.     The  skin  envelope  is 


THE    wind's    will 


121 


perhaps  ripped  like  a  piece  of  tissue  paper. 
The  wind  now  has  a  rough  edge  to  push  against 
instead  of  a  smooth  surface;  and  it  drives  so 
hard  at  this  point  that  the  water  just  ahead  of 
it  is  forced  upward  into  a  tiny  wedge  or  wave. 
The  wedge  itself  at  once  becomes  an  upright 
face  that  catches  the  wind.  It  is  driven  ahead 
with  a  push  that  causes  its  top  to  outrun  its 
base  and  thus  sink  forward  and  downward. 
The  fall  displaces  and  drives  into  wave  form 
the  water  ahead,  helping  on  the  further  break- 
ing of  the  envelope  and  the  formation  of  new 
wedges.  Presently  the  whole  surface  of  the 
waters  is  covered  by  tiny  waves,  flashing  with 
a  thousand  facets,  and  making  what  is  called 
"  a  ruffled  sea." 

Sometimes  just  before  an  approaching  storm, 
and  apparently  without  any  wind,  there  is  an 
unaccountable  agitation  of  the  surface.  The 
small  waves  seem  much  excited,  leaping  up  in 
little  points,  and  breaking  off  abruptly  with  a 
dull  swash.  But  usually  the  disturbance  of  the 
surface  increases  only  by  continued  pressure 
of  the  wind.  The  ruffled  sea  passes  into  the 
"  chopping  "  or  "  choppy  "  sea  by  gradual  tran- 
sitions. The  more  upright  surface  exposed 
and  the  higher  the  apex  of  the  wave,  the  greater 
the  force  hurled  against  it,  and  the  stronger 


Breaking 
of  the 
covering. 


The  ruffled 
sen. 


The  sea 
before  a 
stnrm. 


122 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  choppy 
tea. 


Favorite 
spots  for 
choppy 
seas. 


the  drive  forward  of  the  wave  itself.  The 
water  wedges,  under  such  conditions,  soon  rise 
and  fall  in  regular  series  and  move  with  a 
well-defined  drift  in  one  direction.  They  are 
not  yet  of  great  height,  nor  thick  through  from 
base  to  base,  nor  rolling  like  the  smooth  un- 
dulations of  the  tropics.  They  are  thin  sharp 
waves  that  have  a  way  of  pitching  upward 
— "  dancing "  it  is  sometimes  called — and  a 
spiteful  fashion  of  striking  the  gunwales  of  a 
small  boat  and  dashing  water  over  its  occu- 
pants. 

The  "  choppy "  sea  (by  which  is  meant  a 
cut-up  or  an  up-and-down  sea)  is  usually  met 
with  where  the  wind  is  blowing  against  an 
ocean  current  or  a  tide  coming  down  a  bay. 
The  English  Channel  is  its  favorite  haunt,  es- 
pecially when  the  wind  is  blowing  up  from  the 
sea;  though  it  is  seen  everywhere  when  winds 
are  variable  and  tides  contrary.  The  region  of 
the  Trade  Winds  seems  sacred  to  the  long  roller, 
but  even  here  a  tropical  squall  will  beat  up  the 
short  wave ;  and  around  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope 
they  ride  the  backs  of  enormous  swells,  main- 
taining an  identity  of  their  own  even  though 
joined  to  a  greater  movement. 

The  "  white  cap  *'  adorns  almost  all  the 
shorter  forms  of  waves.     It  is  merely  the  thin 


THE   wind's   will 


]23 


end  of  the  wedge  pushed  up  so  high  that, 
unable  to  sustain  itself,  it  curls,  bends  for- 
ward and  downward,  and  breaks  into  foam 
as  it  falls.  Almost  always  it  is  pushed  ahead 
by  the  drive  of  the  wind  against  it,  the  heavier 
base  not  being  able  to  keep  up  with  the  crest; 
and  in  stormy  weather  it  is  frequently  whipped 
away  by  the  winds  and  driven  through  the  air 
for  long  distances  in  the  form  of  flying  spray. 
In  an  ordinary  gale  of  wind  these  white  caps 
("Flocks  of  Proteus"  is  the  pedant's  phrase 
for  them)  are  to  be  seen  in  every  direction, 
breaking  usually  with  regularity,  and  flecking 
with  white  the  whole  surface  of  the  sea. 

Very  beautiful  from  the  ship  do  these  crests 
appear.  We  watch  them  flashing  in  spots  of 
light  hour  after  hour,  and  think  of  the  ocean 
as  at  play  in  the  sunlight,  when  in  reality  it  is 
simply  being  buffeted  by  the  winds.  The  waves 
dash  here  and  there  as  though  frightened  and 
in  their  eagerness  to  escape  sometimes  break 
against  each  other,  often  confounding  confusion 
in  a  small  roar  of  foam. 

But  there  is  another  side  to  this  white- 
capped  ocean  that  no  man  knows  so  well  as 
the  swimmer  who  has  wrestled  with  it.  With 
eyes  down  at  the  water's  edge,  and  head  rid- 
ing up  the   slope  of  an  oncoming  wave,   the 


White  caps. 


How  they 
break. 


Appearance 
of  white 
caps. 


The  swim- 
mer in  a 
dioppi)  sen. 


124 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


A  danger- 
ous sea. 


outlook  is  anything  but  assuring.  The  ridges 
appear  enormous,  the  horizon  instead  of  being 
flat  is  as  ragged  as  a  sky  line  of  snow-clad 
Alps,  and  the  spray  seems  to  reach  to  the  very 
zenith — white  spray  leaping  upward  at  a  cold, 
white  sky.  When  the  swimmer  has  swung 
down  into  a  wave  hollow  he  seems  walled  with 
blue-green  water,  and  when  he  dives  through 
the  crest  and  comes  out  on  the  sloping  back 
he  seems  to  see  legions  of  waves  hurrying  to- 
ward him  from  every  point  of  the  compass.  It 
is  a  wearying,  worrying  sea.  The  waves  never 
cease,  the  crest  must  be  continually  avoided; 
and  ever  and  anon  the  unexpected  cross  wave 
breaks  over  the  swimmer's  head  with  a  wild 
rush.  If  he  comes  through  alive  he  never 
forgets  to  his  dying  day  the  look  of  that  foam- 
ing sea. 

White  caps  are  accompaniments  of  the  larger 
as  well  as  the  shorter  waves.  With  a  strong 
wind  both  waves  and  crests  increase  in  size, 
but  there  are  fewer  of  them.  The  water  seems 
to  swing  in  broader  and  longer  ridges  and  there 
is  no  great  regularity  in  the  wave  forms.  Ow- 
ing to  flaws  in  the  wind  cross  waves  are  set 
in  motion,  toils  of  water  are  pitched  here  and 
there  at  odd  angles,  the  sea  becomes  "  lumpy  '* 
in  spots  and  "  full  of  holes  "  in  other  places. 


Waves  with 
a  half  gale. 


THK   wind's   AVILL 


125 


The  crests  now  appear  of  toppling  height,  and 
when  they  break  they  do  so  with  a  roaring 
swish  of  spray.  This  is  what  the  sailors  wovdd 
call  "  a  rough  sea  "  and  the  wind  is  "  variable  " 
or  "  a  half  gale." 

The  storm  waves  which  appear  with  very 
high  winds  are  peculiar  to  the  winds  that  form 
them.  If  the  pressure  is  steady  and  continued 
from  one  direction  they  have  a  tendency  to 
regularity  of  movement;  but  not  if  the  wind 
comes  from  thunder  storms  or  cyclones  which 
last  only  a  few  hours.  These  gusts  merely  lash 
the  ocean,  tossing  and  twisting  the  surface 
and,  after  much  bluster,  subside  as  rapidly 
as  they  rose.  Indeed,  the  original  dash  of 
wind  and  rain  has  a  tendency  to  beat  down 
the  water  instead  of  driving  it  forward  in 
ridges ;  and  in  any  event  the  thunder  storm 
is  usually  much  too  short-lived  to  start  a  pro- 
cession of  heavy  waves.  But  under  the  long 
and  strong  push  of  a  three-days  wind — a 
"  northeaster  " — the  sea  heaps  up  in  great  val- 
leys and  ridges  that  grow  higher  and  heavier 
with  the  increase  of  the  gale.  They  are  not 
always  foam-capped,  but  frequently  a  wave  of 
greater  bulk  than  the  others  will  come  push- 
ing and  shouldering  along,  its  apex  wedged  up 
so  high  that  the  unsubstantial  fabric  of  water 


storm 
waves. 


Thunder 
storms  and 
cyclones. 


Effect  of 
'the  north- 
easter." 


126 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Spume  and 
water  dust. 


cannot  sustain  it,  and  it  lets  go  with  a  crash, 
pitching  forward  in  a  long  whirl  of  white. 

Upon  the  backs  of  these  great  waves  are 
many  smaller  waves,  thousands  of  broken  f  acet- 
ings  of  light,  ruffles,  rips,  and  tears  in  the 
transparent  mantle;  and  after  the  first  or  sec- 
ond day  there  will  be  patches  and  broken 
wreaths  of  spume — battered  and  beaten  water 
dust — hanging  along  the  waves  or  rolling  from 
ridge  to  hollow  in  an  aimless  and  lifeless  way. 
When  the  wind  reaches  hurricane  force  the  sea 
surface  is  half-hidden  by  its  own  spray.  Sheets 
of  water  are  continually  lifted  from  the  high 
ridges  by  the  wind,  blown  to  fine  rain,  and 
driven  with  a  whistle  through  the  rigging  of 
the  ship.  This  spray  is  mingled  tempestuously 
with  the  moisture  of  the  clouds;  for  though  it 
may  not  rain  there  are  usually  clouds,  lying 
low  down  over  the  ocean,  the  under  parts  of 
which  are  wrenched  away  and  hurled  through 
the  air  as  flying  scud. 

Seen  from  the  cross-trees  of  a  ship — the 
cross-trees  where  you  cling  and  swing  back- 
ward and  forward  over  the  water  as  the  ship 
plunges  with  an  awkward  stumble  or  rights 
with  a  violent  snap — a  stormy  sea  is  a  sight 
to  be  remembered.  There  is  no  far  view  ob- 
tainable.    The  blend  of  spray  and  cloud  rack 


Flying 
scud. 


A   stormy 
ten  from 
the  ship's 
cross-trees. 


THE   wind's   will 


127 


make  a  watery  atmosphere  that  shuts  dovm 
upon  the  sea  at  short  range.  Overhead  there 
is  a  gray  turmoil  of  torn  clouds  and  all  around 
is  the  pitch  and  toss  of  the  wind-driven  water. 
Its  color  is  generally  steel-gray  or  olive  with 
foam- white  for  the  high  lights;  but  in  the 
break  of  the  wave  on  the  ridges  and  in  the 
swash  of  the  water  against  the  ship's  side  there 
are  wonderful  greens  churned  into  being — 
beryl-greens,  emerald-greens,  bottle-greens. 

Very  striking  are  these  colors  in  storm;  and 
yet  they  are  rather  overlooked,  forgotten,  in  the 
wail  of  the  wind  through  the  rigging,  the  drive 
of  spray,  and,  above  all,  the  forms  and  move- 
ments of  the  waves.  All  varieties  of  rolling, 
tumbling,  tossing  waves  are  hero — long  lines  of 
the  foam-crested  roller,  sharp  edges  of  the  rag- 
ged cross  wave,  great  banks  of  water  that  push 
but  never  break,  spiteful  caps  that  break  but 
never  push,  waves  upon  the  backs  of  waves,  lone 
waves,  double  waves,  thin  waves,  wild  waves. 
There  are  never  two  of  them  quite  alike.  And 
the  continuous  untiring  volley  of  them !  The 
wonderful  movement  and  restless  energy  of 
them !  The  curling,  twisting,  writhing  beauty 
of  them  !  They  are  always  graceful.  The  elas- 
ticity of  the  material  makes  it  impossible  for 
them  to  lack  in  flowing  line  or  want  in  just 


Color  of 
water  in 
storm. 


Forms  of 
the  waves. 


The  grace 
of  waves  in 
motion. 


128 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


"  Wares 

mountain 

high." 


The  height 
of  storm 
waves. 


proportion.  Sometimes  they  are  broken  by  the 
heaviness  of  the  wind  or  by  cross  surges;  but 
usually  the  outlines  hold  intact  and  the  waves 
sweep  on  and  out  of  sight  with  a  serpentine 
grace  unknown  to  any  other  element. 

The  size  of  these  wave  forms  in  mid-ocean 
is  something  not  usually  known  to  the  tourist 
crossing  summer  seas.  The  "  waves  mountain 
high  "  that  he  may  chance  to  meet  with  in  a 
September  gale  are  only  fifteen  or  twenty  feet 
high;  and  the  hurricane  waves  of  mid-winter, 
which  he  seldom  sees,  do  not  rise  more  than 
fifty  feet  at  their  greatest.  They  look  more 
formidable  than  their  statistics;  but  I  believe 
it  is  generally  conceded  that  no  one  has  ever 
seen  a  wave  more  than  fifty  feet  in  height  on 
the  North  Atlantic.  In  the  Antarctic  and  in 
the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  region,  where  there 
are  long  and  strong  winds  with  very  deep  seas, 
the  height  is  greater,  especially  with  the  ex- 
ceptional wave  called  by  sailors  a  "  gray-back  " ; 
but  even  there  one  meets  with  no  "  mountains  " 
of  water.  From  hollow  to  crest  in  a  perpendic- 
ular line  it  is  doubtful  if  any  wave  ever  rises 
so  high  as  a  hundred  feet.  This  of  course  re- 
fers to  waves  on  the  open  sea  and  not  along 
shore,  A  breaker  may  be  dashed  up  a  rocky 
coast  to  a  greater  height  than  that  by  its  tre- 


THE   wind's   will 


129 


mendous  velocity  and  the  push  of  water  behind 
it;  but  the  coast  breaker  is  not  the  same  as 
the  free  mid-ocean  roller. 

Modest  as  the  smaller  figures  may  be  they, 
nevertheless,  represent  a  mighty  moving  power ; 
and  a  sea  covered  with  fifty-foot  waves  is  a 
fearsome  sea.  It  is  never  seen  in  shallow 
depths  nor  in  narrow  bodies  of  water.  The 
English  Channel,  made  up  of  much  fresh  water 
filtered  through  the  Baltic  (and  fresh  water, 
being  lighter  than  salt  water,  may  rise  to  a 
greater  height),  is  only  a  shallow  arm  of  the 
ocean ;  and  for  all  the  "  great  guns  "  that  blow 
through  it  the  waves  are  not  of  great  height. 
They  look  formidable  enough,  and  every  trav- 
eler to  or  from  the  Continent  has  his  tale  to  tell 
about  the  horrors  of  the  Channel.  It  is  a  place 
where  choppy  seas  foam  into  cataracts,  where 
bulkheads  and  docks  are  battered  to  pieces  in 
storm,  where  cliffs  are  undermined,  and  vessels 
are  wrecked,  and  men  by  scores  are  drowned: 
but  it  never  knows  the  heavy  waves  of  the  open 
Atlantic.  Its  waters  are  not  deep  enough, 
its  open  spaces  are  not  wide  enough,  its  mov- 
ing wedges  cannot  travel  far  enough  to  lift  into 
ocean  waves. 

And  yet  the  Channel  can  show  its  white 
teeth  in  storm  in  a  way  that  commands  both 


The  English 
Channel. 


Davgers 
of  the 
Channel. 


130 


THE  OPAL  SEA 


Winds 
along  the 
Channel 
and  the 
North  Sea. 


Everything 
driven  off 
the  water. 


Storm  on 
the  coast  of 
Holland. 


respect  and  fear.  The  winds  usually  find  a 
trough  of  low  pressure  along  this  waterway  to 
the  North  Sea,  and  rush  through  it  with  great 
fury.  Sometimes  for  days  at  a  time  they 
blow,  carrying  with  them  low  clouds  torn  into 
fragments,  driving  ahead  of  them  spin-drift 
ripped  from  the  surface  of  the  water,  and  send- 
ing the  rain  flying  in  lines  with  an  almost  flat 
trajectory.  In  such  blows  everything  living 
or  movable  is  driven  off  the  water.  The 
packets  cease  running,  the  sailing  vessels  seek 
harbor,  the  wild  ducks  fly  inland  to  the  quieter 
bays  and  harbors;  and  even  the  sea  gulls  and 
curlews  will  be  found  back  on  the  English 
meadows,  each  one  squatting  behind  a  tuft  of 
grass  or  a  little  knoll  of  ground,  taking  the 
wind  and  rain  with  a  diagonal  slant  of  body 
from  head  to  tail,  and  riding  out  the  storm  as 
best  he  can. 

As  you  come  down  from  the  interior  to  the 
dunes  of  Holland  in  such  a  storm  the  effect 
is  weird,  almost  unearthly.  The  light  is  gray, 
the  clouds  are  blown  to  pieces,  the  sweep  of  the 
wind  is  terrific.  Flying  sand  cuts  and  stings 
the  face,  it  is  difficult  to  stand  upright  for  the 
wind;  and  to  escape  it  you  are  glad  to  avail 
yourself  of  any  hollow  in  the  hills — a  hollow 
perhaps  under  some  dyke  with  the  sound  of 


THE   WINDS    WILL 


131 


Coming 
down  to  the 


the  sea  on  the  other  side  dashing  ten  or  fifteen 
feet  above  your  head.  Notwithstanding  you 
are  in  the  dunes  and  away  from  all  buildings 
there  is  a  reverberating  roar  in  the  wind  that 
speaks  of  the  shock  in  the  upper  air;  and 
though  you  are  down  in  a  hollow  there  is  an- 
other roar  that  comes  rolling  in  from  the  sea. 
The  tumult  of  the  waves  is  felt  before  it  is 
seen.  Above  the  tops  of  the  outer  dunes  great 
sheets  of  sand  whirl  through  the  air  and  shut 
out  the  view.  In  the  momentary  pauses  of 
gust  following  gust — between  the  sheets — 
comes  a  glimpse  of  the  North  Sea.  It  is  not 
blue  or  green  or  opal  but  tawny  and  yellow; 
not  clear  as  crystal  with  snow-white  crests, 
but  rolled  full  of  grit  from  the  beaches, 
dirty-looking  as  though  churned  with  bottom 
mud.  For  a  half-mile  out  from  shore  all  the 
water  looks  like  cafe-au-lait;  and  the  foam  on 
the  waves,  the  froth  on  the  beach,  are  as 
whipped  cream.  The  waves  are  driving  in 
long  diagonal  ranks — each  one  traveling  along 
the  coast,  breaking  on  its  beach  end,  and  finally 
disappearing  from  view  in  sand  and  sptray. 
Beyond  the  coffee-colored  shore  water,  where 
the  depth  is  greater,  a  clearer  sea  shows.  It 
is  still  yellowish,  it  even  borders  upon  topaz 
without   being  so   transparent;   but   from   the 


Look  of  the 
North  Sea 
in  storm. 


132 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Night  on 
I  he  North 
Hea. 


shore  it  merely  counts  as  a  color  streak.  Far- 
ther out  everything  disappears  in  a  confusion 
of  spray,  mist,  and  cloud.  There  is  left  only 
a  great  gray  veil — half  water,  half  sky — that 
the  eye  will  not  penetrate. 

Night  on  the  North  Sea  or  the  Channel 
(seen  again  from  the  ship's  cross-trees)  is  even 
more  weird  and  unearthly;  especially  when 
there  are  lightning  flashes  to  illumine  the  yel- 
low dunes  of  Holland  or  the  white  cliffs  of 
England.  In  that  pale  violet  light  the  dunes 
look  like  a  greater  and  more  tempestuous  ocean, 
the  cliffs  gleam  like  phosphorus,  the  sum- 
mer hotels  along  the  beach  at  Ostend  rear  into 
enchanted  castles,  and  the  tawny  sea  seems  a 
vast  waving  desert  of  sand.  And  how  that 
wind,  blowing  perhaps  straight  up  the  Channel, 
up  the  North  Sea,  wails  through  the  rigging! 
Wee-ooh !  wee-oooh  !  Oooooh  !  Ooooooh  !  Then 
a  great  dash  of  spray  driving  up  through  the 
bowsprit-shrouds,  over  the  crow's-nest,  against 
the  spars;  drenching  everything  above  board, 
accompanied  by  the  heavy  pounding  of  a  wave 
upon  the  turtleback — the  water  scurrying  aft 
over  hatches  and  deck-houses,  and  finally  disap- 
pearing with  a  plunge  over  the  rail  into  the  dark 
of  the  sea. 

Wild   enough   is   a   night   of  storm    on    the 


The  drive 
of  the  wind. 


THE   WIND'S   WILL 


133 


North  Sea,  but  wilder  still  is  that  upon  the 
open  North  Atlantic.  In  latitude  40°,  longitude 
40°,  in  the  region  of  "  the  brave  west  winds," 
there  is  no  yellow  tinge  to  the  water  that  comes 
from  shallowness,  no  short  wave  that  comes 
from  hampered  movement.  Wind  and  water 
are  both  free  and  both  of  great  strength.  Hand 
in  hand  the  waves  come  marching  down  upon 
the  straining  ship  in  inexhaustible  sequence  and 
energy.  And  occasionally,  looming  above  the 
horizon  line,  swinging  and  pushing  to  the  front, 
lifting,  still  lifting  as  it  nears,  comes  a  huge 
"  gray-back."  With  the  cry  of  warning  from 
no  one  knows  exactly  where,  every  man- jack 
leaps  into  the  rigging  and  takes  a  twist  of  a 
rope  about  him  as  the  great  comber  strikes  the 
shoulder  of  the  ship,  rushes  up  and  over  the 
bulwarks,  and  thunders  across  the  trembling 
decks.  In  a  moment  it  has  vanished,  but  it  is 
not  long  before  the  warning  cry  tells  of  an- 
other. All  day  and  the  night  through  perhaps, 
they  come  and  go,  the  push  and  shock  are  ter- 
rific; and  the  wonder  is  that  ribs  of  oak,  or 
even  of  steel,  can  stand  such  buffeting  without 
breaking. 

With  the  sailing  vessel  there  is  always  some 
making  of  leeway,  some  bending  and  drifting 
with  the  wind,  some  swerving  under  the  blow. 


Rtorm   in 
latitude  40', 
longitude 
40°. 


The  "gray- 
back." 


134 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  plunge 
forward  of 
the  ocean 
liner. 


Not  SO  with  the  ocean  liner — the  craft  that  sad 
sea-dogs  tell  us  is  only  a  floating  hotel  where  we 
see  the  calm  ocean  from  cabin  windows.  A 
great  steamer  going  twenty  knots  an  hour  to 
the  west,  meeting  a  gale  traveling  sixty  miles 
an  hour  to  the  east,  will  furnish  forth  more 
dashing  waves  in  an  hour  than  any  ship,  bark, 
or  schooner  ever  encountered  in  a  lifetime. 
The  force  of  that  sharp-nosed  craft  driven 
headlong  against  the  seas  simply  shatters  the 
water  into  dust,  flings  it  up  and  over  bow  and 
bridge  and  sometimes  smokestacks,  whirls  it 
aft  over  funnels  and  cabins  with  a  blizzard 
velocity.  The  plunge  of  the  bow  into  the 
smother  of  the  sea,  the  heave-up  with  running 
decks,  the  clouds  of  driving  spray  with  their 
long-drawn  hiss-ss-sss  along  the  whole  ship's 
length,  make  up  about  as  wild  a  sight  as  one 
ever  witnesses  upon  the  open  ocean. 

And  yet  fiercer  still  seems  the  blow  of  the 
wave  struck  upon  the  rocks  of  the  shore,  and 
wilder  far  is  the  storm  seen  from  some  point 
of  pines  along  the  New  England  coast  when  a 
great  gale  is  blowing.  Such  a  storm  usually 
anticipates  itself  with  various  warnings.  Some- 
times the  waves  arrive  before  the  wind,  having 
outrun  the  storm  that  created  them;  but  usu- 
ally the  sea  is  still,  flat,  apparently  hushed. 


The  great 
storm  on 
the  coast. 


THE    wind's    will 


136 


Presently  a  gentle  puffing  of  the  wind  is  no- 
ticeable, with  a  hum  of  the  pine  needles,  and 
a  strange  little  moaning  along  the  clefts  of  the 
rocks.  It  may  be  some  hours  later  before  the 
sky  clouds  over,  looks  ominous  or  "  greasy  "  as 
the  sailors  say;  and  the  rain  begins  to  fall. 
With  the  rain  the  wind  begins  to  rise.  The 
drenched  pines  gradually  change  their  note 
from  a  hum  to  a  wail  not  unlike  the  sound  in 
the  rigging  of  a  ship — Wooooh  !  Weee-ooooh  ! 
The  rising  surge  on  the  beach  begins  beat- 
ing out  its  regular  Booooom-sh,  Boooom-sh! 
Boooom-sh !  The  wall  of  granite  against  which 
the  waves  go  rushing  gives  back  the  hollow  roar 
of  the  sea — War  !  Waaar  !  Waaarrrr !  Out  of 
the  mid-Atlantic  pushed  by  the  wind  for  a 
thousand  miles  or  more  come  the  great  seas. 
Their  impetus  is  something  almost  irresistible, 
their  weight  something  enormous,  their  striking 
power  something  terrific.  Higher  and  higher 
they  rise  in  the  crest  as  they  near  the  coast, 

"Cliffs  of  emerald  topped  with  snow 
That  lifted  and  lifted  and  then  let  go 
A  great  white  avalanche  of  thunder." 

When  they  strike  the  rock  nothing  can  stop 
their  upward  rush  save  disintegration  and  de- 
struction.    The  bulk  of  the  wave  is  fended  off 


How  it 
beffint. 


Rain,  wind 
and  rising 
surge. 


The  great 
seas 


136 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  white- 
ridged 
ocean. 


The  sea- 
gray  color- 
ing. 


by  the  roek-bases;  but  this  only  shunts  power 
upward  into  the  crest  which  is  shot  into  the 
air  and  blown  to  pieces  over  the  upper  cliffs 
with  a  long  drawn  Swissssssshhh ! 

What  a  sight  it  is,  this  white-ridged  ocean 
rolling  and  clamoring  toward  the  shore,  this 
beaded  water  dashing  high  in  air !  What  fresh 
fury  seems  added  by  each  new-coming  wave, 
what  slashing  blows  are  dealt  left  and  right, 
what  convulsive  twist  and  writhe  and  strain  of 
the  waters !  And  riding  down  this  chaos,  bury- 
ing it  out  of  sight  at  times,  comes  again  that 
monster  comber — the  "  gray-back  "  of  the  seas 
— swinging  far  up  the  rocks  with  a  deafening 
thundering  crash,  its  shattered  crest  flung  high 
in  air  and  carried  landward  like  a  cloud  of 
steam. 

As  the  night  shuts  down  perhaps  the  wind 
rises  higher  and  higher,  the  mingling  of  spray 
and  rain  makes  an  atmosphere  that  can  be  felt, 
the  meeting  places  of  the  elements  are  blurred, 
and  the  hue  over  all  is  a  neutral  gray,  a  sea- 
gray — the  residuum  of  wrecked  color.  Far 
down  along  the  coast  the  feeble  flash  of  a  light- 
house appears  at  intervals  and  out  from  the 
reef  is  heard  in  momentary  gurglings  the  half- 
human  sob  of  a  bell-buoy  rising,  rolling,  and 
sinking  in  the  waves.     Ghost-like  in  the  dim 


THE   wind's   will 


137 


light  reel  and  toss  the  white  riders  of  the 
storm.  Onward  they  come.  Swash  !  Boooooom  ! 
Sssssss-ss !  And  the  great  cauldron  under  the 
cliff  having  flung  forth  its  spume,  halts,  hesi- 
tates, sinks  back  upon  itself,  sucks  out  in  a 
great  undertow,  then  rises  into  a  new  crest 
higher  than  ever.  Waaarrr!  Ssss-ssssss! 
Weeeeeooooohhh ! 

All  night  long  the  pound  against  the  cliffs 
and  the  tremble  of  the  shore!  All  night  the 
whistle  of  the  spray-laden  wind  as  it  drives 
through  the  branches  of  the  pines!  All  night 
the  curl  and  flash  of  the  white  crests  on 
the  open  sea !  By  morning  perhaps  the  wind 
has  fallen,  the  clouds  have  vanished,  the  sun 
is  forth ;  and  yet  for  many  hours  afterward  the 
far  ocean  waves  keep  swashing  against  each 
other  and  collapsing  in  swirls  of  foam.  Finally 
the  sea  runs  down,  the  breakers  sink;  and  at 
sunset  as  you  walk  along  the  beach  all  is  quiet. 
It  is  hard  to  realize  perhaps  that  the  now 
smooth  sea  with  its  placid  little  swells  could 
ever  have  worn  such  a  savage  front.  But  the 
traces  of  its  fury  still  remain.  The  dunes  are 
cut  through  by  inlets  here  and  piled  high  with 
wet  sand  there,  the  beaches  are  ripped  and  torn, 
the  bowlders  are  rolled  over,  scarred  and  bat- 
tered;  and   the   face-walls   of   the  cliffs   show 


Lighthouse 
arid  bell- 
buoy. 


The  pound 
of  waves. 


The  sub- 
Si  iience. 


138 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Wrecks  and 
wreckers. 


The  lost. 


Flotsam  of 
the  wave. 


where  tons  and  tons  of  stone  have  been  broken 
away  and  fallen  into  the  sea. 

Perhaps  far  out  upon  the  distant  reef,  where 
the  white  caps  are  still  showing,  hung  help- 
lessly upon  the  sharp-fanged  rocks,  heeled  over 
on  her  side  with  masts  and  rigging  all  down, 
is  the  battered  hulk  of  a  schooner  that  was 
driven  in  by  the  wind  the  night  before.  The 
little  black  speck  that  moves  slowly  about  her 
fore-foot  is  possibly  a  boat  of  a  life-saving  crew 
that  was  unable  to  save  during  the  storm,  and 
is  now  only  making  a  perfunctory  examination 
of  what  remains.  Perhaps  again  the  little  knot 
of  fisherfolk  that  is  seen  crowded  together  far 
down  the  beach  has  found  at  the  water's  edge, 
half  buried  in  the  sand,  a  cold  form  with  a 
frayed  rope  shirred  about  the  waist,  purplish 
hands  with  torn  finger  nails,  and  a  white  face 
with  wet  hair  clinging  about  it  as  the  tide  went 
out.  Dead,  quite  dead  !  Yes ;  but  what  cares 
the  sea !  Captain  or  cabin-boy,  prince  or  pau- 
per, lover  or  hater,  what  cares  the  sea! 

The  high-water  line  along  the  beach  always 
has  its  tale  to  tell,  its  report  of  accident,  its 
whisperings  of  disaster.  Fragments  of  weed 
and  shell,  wreckage  of  ship  and  sail,  blocks, 
planks,  spars,  boxes,  flat  corks,  strange  woods 
— all  the  flotsam  of  the  wave  is  there — flung 


THE   WIND  S   TVILL 


139 


together  in  an  odd  confusion.  And  as  one  wan- 
ders along  the  sands  the  eye  picks  out  things 
more  personal  to  humanity — a  glove,  a  wom- 
an's hat,  a  faded  photograph,  a  wreath  of 
orange  blossoms,  a  Japanese  book  printed  on 
rice  paper  and  on  the  fly-leaf  in  faded  script 
a  name,  "  Therese  Marcou."  Tales  of  the  sea 
too  simple  for  comment,  perhaps.  Yes,  and 
with  them,  sometimes,  horrors  too  obvious  to 
be  mistaken.  A  few  years  ago  on  the.  New 
Jersey  coast  the  waves  washed  up  a  French  kid 
boot — a  woman's  boot  buttoned  tightly — and 
within  it  a  foot  cut  off  at  the  top  of  the 
leather  as  though  by  the  clean  blow  of  an  axe. 
A  deed  of  violence!  Yes;  but  the  sea  has 
witnessed  many  of  them.  To-day  a  battleship 
goes  down  and  from  her  a  thousand  bubbling 
cries  rise  skyward;  yesterday  the  sea  waters 
crept  into  the  heart  of  Mont  Pelee  and  the  over- 
whelming of  St.  Pierre  followed;  to-morrow 
perhaps  some  South  Sea  island  or  Indian  shore 
will  be  inundated  by  a  tidal  wave  and  whole 
villages  destroyed.  But  what  cares  the  sea ! 
The  bright  waves  continue  to  travel  landward, 
they  fling  the  broken  remnants  on  the  shore, 
the  very  dust  of  disaster  is  shaken  from  the 
surface.  The  passing  of  light,  of  shade,  of 
color,  of  life,  are  all  one  to  the  sea. 


A   sea 
horror 


Tragefliet 
of  the  sea. 


CHAPTER   VII 


THE  WAVE'S  TOOTH 


The  cliff 
wall. 


Cliffs  of  granite  that  stretch  up  and  down 
the  coast,  capes  of  rock  that  here  and  there 
push  their  prows  out  into  the  ocean,  shores  of 
shingle  and  sandstone  that  forever  shoulder  the 
broken  wave  away — what  a  barrier  they  form 
against  the  sea !  The  mighty  wall,  with  a 
foundation  far  beneath  the  tide  and  an  eleva- 
tion far  above  it,  how  impossible  of  conquest 
it  seems !  Serene  it  stands  with  perpendicular 
face  turned  seaward  as  though  defiant  of  the 
elements.  The  pines  and  birches  grow  on  its 
top ;  below  the  verge  in  the  crannies  of  the  rock 
cling  sumach  and  alder,  interspersed  with  sam- 
phire, sea  pinks,  field  daisies,  goldenrod,  or 
perhaps  only  moss  with  green  and  yellow  li- 
chens ;  from  its  pinnacles  the  osprey  watches  the 
outstretched  waters;  and  along  the  narrow 
ledges  the  clamoring  sea  birds  build  their 
nests.  The  sense  of  security  and  permanence 
is  omnipresent.  We  are  prone  to  think  that 
no  wave  could  ever  prevail  against  that  tower- 

140 


THE   wave's   tooth 


141 


Blocks  mid 
bowlders 
broken 
away. 


ing  barrier.  It  is  too  strong,  too  high,  too  thick 
for  sea-born  hosts  to  conquer. 

And  yet  a  hundred  feet  or  more  above  the 
tide  on  the  face-wall  little  vegetation  grows, 
the  unweathered  surfaces  show  where  immense 
blocks  have  recently  loosened  and  fallen  away, 
and  down  at  the  water's  edge  the  shore  is  made 
up  of  great  bowlders  each  weighing  perhaps 
many  tons.  What  is  the  significance  of  this? 
And  why  does  the  cliff,  seen  in  profile,  reveal 
a  base  that  recedes  and  a  top  that  projects  out 
over  the  wave?  It  is  perhaps  true  that  the 
barrier  cannot  be  overcome  by  any  sudden  at- 
tack of  the  waves;  no  storm  however  fierce  can 
surprise  or  break  down  the  wall.  But  is  it  proof 
against  continual  assault,  day  in  and  day  out, 
year  in  and  year  out?  The  blow  of  the  wave 
may  be  fended  off,  foiled,  thrown  back;  but 
the  daily  gnaw  of  the  wave's  tooth — what 
granite  base  can  withstand  that? 

Not  always  is  the  cliff  being  beaten  by  great 
seas.  If  its  foundation  is  sunk  in  very  deep 
water  the  waves  will  flood  in  silently,  without 
break  or  dash  of  crest.  The  bottom  of  the 
wave,  meeting  with  no  friction,  travels  as  fast 
as  the  top;  and  being,  like  the  base  of  a  tri- 
angle, further  forward  than  the  top,  it  strikes 
the  underlying  foundation  wall  first.     The  re- 


Deep  water 
at  cliff  base. 


142 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


suit  is  a  rebound  and  a  shooting  upward  of  the 
water  into  the  apex  of  the  wave — a  dancing 
skyward  of  harmless  jets.  Even  a  heavy  storm 
will  not  always  throw  waves  against  a  cliff  so 
situated.  It  is  the  most  secure  of  the  rock 
barriers,  and  centuries  may  elapse  before  such  a 
wall  is  finally  disintegrated  and  cast  into  the  sea. 
The  cliff  with  a  shallow  shore,  shelving  out- 
ward, fares  much  worse.  The  waves  as  they 
come  in  from  the  sea,  moving  in  even  succes- 
sion, begin  to  feel  a  pull  upon  their  bases  as 
soon  as  the  shallowing  commences.  The  drag 
upon  each  wave  retards  the  onward  march 
of  the  columns,  with  the  result  that  the  for- 
ward waves  move  more  slowly,  and  the  ones 
that  come  after  catch  up  with  them — close 
up  the  ranks  as  it  were — and  make  the  col- 
umns shorter  and   nearer  together.     As  each 


The  shallow 
shore 


Friction  of 
wave  bases. 


wave  moves  up  the  shelving  shore  the  friction 
becomes  greater.  The  base  is  held  back  by  the 
sea  bottom  and  pushed  back  by  the  undertow 
running  outward  from  the  shore;  while  the  top, 
being  less  retarded  than  the  base,  is  by  its  own 
impetus  driven  ahead — pitched  violently  for- 
ward. The  climax  is  reached  when  the  wave 
dashes  itself  to  pieces  against  the  cliff  and  falls 
in  shattered  foam  among  the  shore  bowlders. 
Immediately  its  broken  fragments  gather  them- 


THE   WAVES   TOOTH 


143 


selves  together  and  there  is  a  recession  of  waters 
that  runs  down  the  shore  and  helps  form  the 
base  of  a  new  breaker,  or  else  runs  under  the 
wave  and  out  seaward  in  the  undertow.  This 
process  of  forming,  breaking,  striking,  and  re- 
ceding is  endlessly  repeated;  the  shore  is  never 
entirely  free  from  it,  the  sea  is  never  completely 
at  rest.  Even  under  the  smooth  glittering 
moonlit  surface  there  is  always  the  ground 
swell,  the  curve  and  fall  on  the  beach,  the  wash 
downward  of  the  broken  waters. 

The  waves,  that  have  been  affirmed  as  sel- 
dom rising  fifty  feet  from  trough  to  crest  in 
mid-ocean  even  in  hurricane  weather,  reach  to 
enormous  heights  when  hurled  against  the 
shore.  A  heavy  storm  on  a  shelving  coast  will 
fling  crests  of  spray  up  and  over  cliffs  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  feet  in  height  with  apparently 
little  effort.  The  whole  wave  does  not  go  so 
high  by  any  means;  but  the  tremendous  im- 
petus put  in  the  top  by  the  forAvard  motion 
of  the  wave,  together  with  the  force  of  the 
wind,  hurls  the  crest  far  beyond  its  parent  base. 
The  usually  cited  illustration  of  this  is  Bell 
Light  on  the  Scottish  coast,  which,  though  one 
hundred  and  fifteen  feet  above  the  sea,  is  often 
hidden  in  clouds  of  foam  and  spray.  And, 
again,  Eddystone  Light  from  a  structure  sev- 


BreaKinf! 

and  striking 
of  crests. 


Height  of 
waves  along 
rocky 
coasts. 


144 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Impact 
of  storm 
waves. 


Destruction 
of  islands. 


enty-two  feet  in  height  was  rebuilt  in  1877  to 
an  altitude  of  one  hundred  and  thirty-two  feet 
to  prevent  the  waves  from  riding  over  the  top 
of  the  lantern. 

The  impact  of  such  waves  is  estimated  at 
a  maximum  of  about  seventeen  tons  to  the 
square  yard.  The  southern  coast  of  Eng- 
land can  be  felt  to  tremble  a  mile  back 
from  the  shore  when  a  great  gale  is  hurling 
waves  against  its  cliffs;  and  the  direct  result 
of  this  battering  and  storming  is  easily  com- 
puted. Dover  Strait  widens  a  yard  or  more 
each  year,  and  Shakespeare  Cliff  has  worn  away 
nearly  a  mile  in  eighteen  centuries.  Water  deep 
enough  to  float  a  ship  is  now  running  over 
what  was  once  a  village  on  a  cliff  at  Weybourne, 
Suffolk;  and  what  are  now  the  shifting  Good- 
win Sands  were,  before  the  Norman  Conquest, 
the  broad  acres  of  Earl  Godwin  the  Saxon. 
The  wear  is  going  on  to-day  with  no  whit  of 
energy  abated.  The  island  of  Heligoland,  with 
its  cliffs  two  hundred  feet  high,  has  been  bom- 
barded by  storm  waves  for  many  years  and  is 
doomed  to  destruction;  and  many  low  islands 
that  now  lie  along  our  rocky  coasts  were  once 
portions  of  the  coast  itself,  but  were  beaten 
down,  worn  away,  and  finally  cut  off  from  the 
mainland  by  a  flanking  movement  of  the  waves. 


THE   WAVE  S   TOOTH 


145 


The  storm  wave  is,  indeed,  a  powerful  batter- 
ing ram.  And  yet  the  greatest  destruction 
along  the  coast  hardly  comes  from  the  swift- 
smiting  crest.  There  is  force  in  the  blow,  to 
be  sure;  but  in  the  long  account  of  time  it  is 
the  wear  on  the  cliff  bases  that  finally  topples 
the  rock  forward  into  the  sea.  Day  and  night 
at  the  foundation  walls  there  is  the  gnaw  of 
the  wave's  tooth;  winter  frosts  creep  into  the 
cracks  and  veins  of  the  upper  rock  wedging  it 
away  from  the  main  body ;  heavy  storms  follow 
with  their  breakers  flung  high  up  the  wall ;  and 
great  blocks  of  granite  are  loosened,  falling  with 
a  crash  to  the  bottom  of  the  cliff.  This  is  the 
process  that  destroys.  Sometimes  it  is  tem- 
porarily stayed,  clogged  by  its  own  debris;  but 
there  is  always  a  clearing  away  for  new  action, 
a  preparing  for  a  new  attack.  The  sea  is  never 
idle. 

And  yet  water  in  itself  has  small  power  to 
cut  or  eat  into  rock.  Wliere  there  is  no  motion 
there  is  no  wear.  Five  himdred  fathoms  down 
the  rocks  may  be  honeycombed  by  gases,  but 
they  are  not  disintegrated  by  friction.  It  is 
only  along  the  coast  that  destruction  goes  rap- 
idly forward.  For  though  sea  water  has  more 
or  less  grit  in  it  that  gives  it  a  rasping  edge, 
its  real  destructive  power  at  the  cliff  base  lies 


Gnaw  of  the 

wave's 

tooth 


Wear  upon 
cliff  walls. 


The  grit  in 
sea  water. 


146 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Wave  mo- 
tion alon-g 
shores. 


Bowlders  at 
the  cliff 
base. 


in  the  stones  and  sands  it  can  move,  drive  be- 
fore it,  drag  about  from  point  to  point,  push 
into  gravel  pens,  and  whirl  around  and  out  and 
along  the  smooth  ledges  again. 

This  is  all  helped  on  by  the  manner  in  which 
the  incoming  waves  usually  strike  the  shore. 
It  is  seldom  that  they  come  "  head  on."  More 
often  they  advance  at  an  angle  with  a  side 
thrust,  a  diagonal  rub,  for  some  length  along 
the  rock  bases.  Pebbles,  shells,  and  round 
bowlders  are  swept  along  in  swift  procession, 
or  are  dropped  momentarily  into  shallow  beds 
by  the  loss  of  wave  motion,  only  to  be  caught 
up  again  by  the  wave  following  after.  In  any 
event  the  grating  process  goes  on,  and  in  time 
both  rock  base  and  battering  bowlder  are  the 
losers. 

When  the  bowlder  blocks  first  fall  into  the 
sea  at  the  base  of  the  cliff  they  perhaps  lie  there 
for  years  and,  in  measure,  protect  the  cliff  by 
warding  off  the  waves.  Gradually  the  rough 
edges  are  worn  away  so  that  they  are  more  easily 
rolled.  Sea  weeds  gather  about  them — weeds 
having  bladders  like  pea  pods  that  hold  air  and 
buoy  up  the  stones,  making  them  more  trans- 
portable. Barnacles  and  limpets  grow  in  among 
the  weeds  and  make  an  outer  armor  that  partly 
protects  the  stones  themselves.     When  a  win- 


THE   wave's   tooth 


147 


Fate  of  the 
bowlderi. 


ter  storm  comes  the  waves  lift  them  and  drive 
them  landward  with  great  force.  Countless 
smaller  bowlders  carrying  their  modicum  of 
fronds  that  hang  down  like  fringes,  are  driven 
against  them,  the  sands  sweep  around  and  over 
them,  sea  shells  cut  them,  the  shock  against  the 
cliff  walls  breaks  them.  After  a  time  the  pro- 
tecting sea  weed  is  torn  from  them,  they  gi'ow 
rounder,  smaller,  and  are  more  easily  driven 
with  the  waves.  Finally  they  are  all  ground 
down  to  gravel  and  sand  and  flung  along  the 
beaches  in  a  shower  or  carried  seaward  by  the 
undertow. 

Not  one  but  millions  of  bowlder  blocks  along 
the  rocky  shores  are,  year  by  year,  going  through 
this  process  of  disintegration.  If  the  block 
happens  to  be  a  hard  piece  of  stone  it  will  last 
for  a  long  time,  and,  while  being  slowly  ground 
to  sand,  will  work  destruction  to  the  things  that 
grind.  With  a  semi-human  instinct  it  turns  its 
flint  edge  against  the  softest  piece  of  the  op- 
posing rock  and  works  on  that  first — or  at  least 
it  so  appears  judging  from  results.  For  every- 
where on  bowlder  and  cliff  the  wear  is  uneven. 
The  wall  presents  a  gnawed  appearance,  is  hol- 
lowed out  in  spots,  scooped  in  segments  and 
half-circles,  eaten  through  at  the  back,  probed 
along  seams  and  ledges,  scoured  smooth  in  ba- 


Soft  parts  of 
cliff  worn 
first. 


148 


THE  OPAL   SEA 


Spouting 
horns. 


sins  and  pot  holes.  In  addition  to  stone  weap- 
ons every  swash  of  the  wave  may  drive  a  long 
tongue  of  water  up  an  open  vein  in  the  rock- 
strata  of  the  shore  until,  after  years  of  churn- 
ing, a  hole  is  worn  through  at  the  far  end  and 
a  souffieur  or  "  spouting  horn  "  flings  a  line  of 
white  spray  high  into  the  sunlight  with  every 
pulsation  of  the  surf.  Once  the  passage  is  worn 
through  it  begins  to  widen.  Eventually  it  may 
cut  off  that  portion  of  the  shore,  and  thus  by 
isolating  it,  compass  its  fall  more  speedily. 

Beneath  the  sea  at  the  cliff's  base  where  there 
is  the  constant  pound  of  bowlders,  sometimes  a 
smooth  circle  in  the  rock  is  worn.  In  this  circle 
gravel  and  stones  are  flung  around  with  a 
swing  like  pebbles  in  a  glacier  pot.  And  with 
a  similar  erosive  effect.  It  may  take  centuries 
of  this  grinding  and  working  under  the  water 
to  produce  a  marked  effect ;  but  eventually  there 
is  a  grotto  formed,  and  at  low  tide  the  entrance 
is  perhaps  apparent.  In  and  out  tnrough  this 
entrance  the  waves  keep  dashing,  further  and 
further  the  grotto  keeps  receding  as  the  fissures 
in  the  rock  strata  are  pried  open,  deepened, 
widened  into  galleries.  The  softer  portions  of 
the  rock  crumble  away,  the  harder  portions  at 
the  sides  remain  intact,  the  unwashed  portions 
at  the  top  make  a  vaulted  roof;  and  the  deep- 


Rock  grot- 
toes. 


THE   WAVE  S   TOOTH 


149 


bayed  ocean  cave  is  the  result.  Year  after  year 
the  waters  widen  the  door  and  broaden  the 
cave's  boundaries;  year  after  year  the  wave 
floods  in  and  goes  feeling  with  wet  fingers  along 
the  dark  cold  walls,  touching  here,  reaching  up 
there,  and  then  recedes  upon  itself  only  to  be 
followed  by  another  wave. 

Often  it  happens  that  these  ocean  caves  have 
their  entrances  far  below  the  water  line  and  are 
never  known  to  man.  Little  if  any  light  pene- 
trates to  them,  and  only  the  seal  pushes  a 
murky  head  above  the  surface  of  the  waters  or 
flings  himself  at  full  length  along  the  dripping 
ledges  of  slate.  Often,  again,  the  entrance  is 
only  a  few  feet  beneath  low  tide,  and  may  be 
entered  by  a  swift  plunge  down  and  in  and  up. 
Strange  the  sight  within  such  a  cave,  lighted 
as  it  is  from  beneath  the  surface.  The  swim- 
mer who  lifts  a  white  arm  out  of  water  or 
clambers  up  for  a  moment  upon  a  rocky  plat- 
form to  rest,  is  amazed  at  the  blue  light  that 
dances  weirdly  up  from  below,  and  the  bluer 
drops  of  water  that  fall  from  his  flnger  tips. 
The  whole  basin  seems  like  a  liquid  sapphire, 
and  the  stalactites  hanging  from  the  ragged 
ceiling  gleam  like  pendants  of  amethyst. 

It  is  not  probable  that  the  wear  of  the  sea 
alone  is  responsible  for  the  deep  indentations 


Ocean 
caves. 


Within  the 
caves. 


Weini 
ii(}hts  and 
colors. 


150 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Fiords. 


Victor 
Hugo' a 
Lysefiord. 


of  various  shores  called  fiords.  They  exist  only 
along  mountainous  coasts  as  in  Norway  and 
Alaska,  and  are  supposed  to  be  caused  by  a 
subsidence  of  the  land,  which  has  allowed  the 
sea  to  enter  the  valleys  and  creep  up  the  flanks 
of  the  mountains.  But  no  doubt  the  water  is 
responsible  for  much  modification  of  the  orig- 
inal subsidence.  Once  the  sea  gains  a  grinding 
space  it  is  not  easily  persuaded  to  cease  work. 
The  long  fiords  that  run  for  many  miles  back 
into  the  rock  are  not  stagnant.  The  tide  floods 
them  slowly  because  it  has  a  push  up  hill;  but 
the  ebb  is  more  destructive  and  carries  with  it 
seaward  much  loose  debris.  The  tendency  is 
always  to  widen  and  deepen  the  runway  of  the 
water. 

Possibly  the  best  example  of  the  fiord  is  not 
the  smaller  indentation  that  marks  the  coast  of 
Maine  and  Nova  Scotia;  but  Victor  Hugo's 
Lysefiord,  which  runs  inland  some  twenty  miles, 
and  yet  in  places  is  not  more  than  two  thou- 
sand feet  in  width.  Its  walls  are  abrupt,  being 
based  below  the  water  line  a  thousand  feet  and 
rising  above  the  water  line  over  three  thousand 
feet.  It  is  apparently  a  cleft  in  the  rock,  so 
narrow  that  the  sunlight  never  touches  parts 
of  it,  winds  rarely  reach  down  to  it,  and  heat 
and  cold  are  comparatively  without  effect  upon 


THE   WAVE  S   TOOTH 


151 


Bays  and 
promntories. 
how  made. 


it.  With  a  roof  over  all  it  might  pass  for  an 
ocean  cave,  formed  by  widening  and  deepening 
a  rock  fissure,  were  it  not  for  its  enormous 
length  and  depth. 

Time  and  tide  and  the  wave's  tooth,  what 
will  they  not  accomplish !  The  changes  they 
have  wrought  appear  on  every  coast.  Working 
along  the  line  of  least  resistance,  working  with 
that  diagonal  thrust,  the  waves  have  carved  out 
many  a  rock-bound  bay  and  left  projecting  into 
the  sea  many  a  wedge-shaped  promontory.  The 
promontory  perhaps  stands  for  years,  facing 
serenely  seaward;  but  always  growing  a  little 
sharper  at  its  point.  Eventually  a  fissure  ap- 
pears back  from  the  point,  the  water  creeps  in, 
gnaws  through,  and  separates  the  point  from 
its  parent  body.  In  a  few  years  there  is  a 
core  of  hard  rock,  a  needle,  a  pinnacle,  a  lonely 
tower,  standing  in  the  sea.  Winds  and  waves 
carve  it  into  fantastic  forms,  its  inaccessibility 
make  it  weird  and  mysterious;  and  presently  it 
is  called  by  the  'long-shore  people  the  Devil's 
Pulpit  or  Satan's  Nose  or  The  Old  Man  of  the 
Sea.  For  many  years  this  outlier  of  the  shore 
stands  above  the  tides,  growing  thinner  and 
thinner  each  year,  until  perhaps  during  some 
violent  winter  storm  it  falls  with  a  crash  into 
the  water.    Immediately  the  waves  begin  clear- 


Towers 
along  shore. 


152 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Reefs  and 

sunken 

rocks. 


Sands  of 
the  shore. 


Tinra  and 

necks  of 
land. 


ing  away  all  trace  of  the  accident.  They  smooth 
and  scour  and  roll  the  broken  fragments  into 
deeper  water  until  nothing  but  a  stump  of  rock 
is  left.  Long  years  afterward  the  once  lofty 
pinnacle  appears  on  the  sailing  charts  as  a  reef 
or  sunken  rock;  and  as  you  drive  by  it  in  a 
catboat  you  may  notice  a  flattening  of  the  water 
just  there  and  a  tangle  of  green  sea  weed  that 
sways  and  rolls  with  each  movement  of  the 
wave. 

But  is  the  sea  always  the  gainer?  Is  there 
no  compensation  made  to  the  land?  What  be- 
comes of  the  fallen  blocks  of  stone — the  disin- 
tegrated cliff?  All  the  sands  of  the  pocket 
beaches,  of  the  bars,  and  spits,  and  shallow  sea- 
beds  make  answer.  They  themselves  are  but 
the  granulated  bowlders  of  the  shore.  As  they 
are  ground  to  sand  and  gravel  the  waves  scat- 
ter them  along  the  sickle-shaped  beaches;  or, 
quite  as  often,  the  currents  lead  them  out  to 
sea  and  heap  them  over  sunken  reefs.  Drift 
upon  drift  they  gather  until  after  a  long 
time — for  the  processes  of  nature  are  slow — 
they  become  a  bar  or  neck  of  land  called  a 
shoal.  At  low  tide  this  bar  appears  above  the 
water — a  dark,  flat  strip  where  shore-birds  con- 
gregate and  sea  weeds  cling.  Eventually  it  lifts 
high  enough  to  be  above  the  tide,  grows  into  a 


THE   WAVE  8   TOOTH 


153 


low  sand  barrier,  is  covered  with  shore  grass, 
and  makes  a  protection  for  a  bay  or  sound  back 
of  it. 

Frequently  the  building  of  sea  barriers  is 
helped  by  the  deposit  of  streams.  The  rivers 
are  continually  carrying  down  immense  quan- 
tities of  silt  and  sediment.  The  bulk  of  this 
silt  is  carried  only  a  few  miles  from  shore  be- 
fore it  begins  to  settle  to  the  bottom.  The 
result  is  soon  apparent  in  a  bar  or  lido,  made 
up  of  sand  and  river  mud  upon  which  vegeta- 
tion grows  and  lends  stability  to  the  accumu- 
lating soil.  With  the  sea  once  shut  out  a  la- 
goon is  formed  reaching  landward,  and  the 
tendency  is  for  this  lagoon  to  grow  long  grasses, 
gather  vegetable  and  animal  life  to  itself,  and 
form  small  islands.  The  islands  are  often 
started  by  tangled  bunches  of  sea  weed,  knit 
together  by  growing  grasses,  and  made  into  a 
thick  mat  by  various  roots  and  weeds  of  the 
water.  Frequently  they  are  spongy  in  charac- 
ter and  when  walked  upon  bend  like  thin  ice. 
And  they  may  also  drift  about  from  place  to 
place  with  the  wind,  lacking  a  foundation  or 
anchorage.  Such  an  island,  some  years  ago, 
blew  into  the  harbor  of  Dulutli  on  Lake  Su- 
perior during  a  storm,  and  was  towed  out  by 
tugs  several  days  later. 


Sea  har- 
riers. 


Lapoons 
and  islands. 


154 


THE  OPAL  SEA 


The 

Venetian 
lagoons. 


Marsh 
lands. 


Bars  and 
islands  lost 
in  alarms. 


When  many  of  these  islands  are  formed  na- 
ture is  disposed  to  unite  them  by  strands  and 
bridges  of  sea  weed  that  thicken,  knit  and  hard- 
en, until  finally  the  whole  area  turns  into  a 
marsh  covered  with  reeds  and  rushes.  Venice 
with  its  river  Brenta,  its  lido,  and  its  lagoons, 
would  no  doubt  have  turned  to  sedge  long  ago, 
had  it  not  been  for  the  dredging  of  the  canals 
and  the  rise  and  fall  of  the  one-foot  tide.  The 
marsh  lands  of  Albemarle  and  Pamlico  sounds 
were  made  possible  by  such  rivers  as  the  Roan- 
oke stretching  sand  strips  parallel  with  the 
shore ;  and  along  the  coasts  of  Maryland,  Texas, 
and  Brazil  there  are  millions  of  acres  of  marshes 
formed  in  this  same  way.  Eventually  they  be- 
come coastal  plains  and  are  inhabited  by  man. 

This  is  all  a  winning  from  the  sea  by  the 
land;  and  yet  it  must  be  admitted  that  it  is 
not  always  a  permanent  accession.  At  times 
the  sea  rises  in  its  might,  overwhelms  bars, 
islands,  and  marshes;  and  in  a  single  day 
sets  at  naught  the  winning  of  years.  Along 
the  Louisiana  shore  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico 
new  lands  are  brought  into  existence  from 
year  to  year,  but  others  are  being  destroyed. 
Large  islands  have  disappeared  from  there 
in  recent  times  leaving  only  ugly  reefs  be- 
hind.     Tree   stumps    that    once   formed    part 


THE   WAVE  S   TOOTH 


155 


of  the  great  swamp  forests  of  Louisiana  are 
now  found  beneath  the  Gulf  waters;  and  the 
c^'presses  of  Point  Chicot,  far  out  at  sea,  stand 
like  spectres  in  the  midst  of  a  watery  plain. 
Then,  too,  bayous  have  been  ripped  open  by 
great  waves;  and  new  channels  have  been  cut 
here  and  there  by  the  tides.  Creole  Pass,  six 
hundred  feet  wide  to-day,  was  not  on  the  chart 
twenty-five  years  ago.  It  was  born  in  a  storm. 
At  the  same  time  perhaps  a  group  of  islands, 
a  marsh  or  a  belt  of  swamp,  passed  out — dis- 
appeared. 

Give  and  take  is  the  story  of  the  shore.  The 
tides  creep  in  bays  and  harbors  doing  little 
damage,  but  they  suck  out  doA^-n  long  inclines 
dragging  with  them  sand  and  mud ;  on  the  con- 
trary, the  storm  waves  ride  in  with  wear  and 
wash  but  go  out  in  broken  undertow.  The  rock 
grinds  down  to  sand  and  that  is  loss;  but  the 
sand  comes  back  eventually  to  the  dunes  and 
that  is  gain.  The  return  of  the  sands  is  made 
possible  by  the  storm  waves  that  rake  and  drag 
the  shallow  sea  bottoms  for  many  miles  off 
shore.  In  the  rush  of  water  across  the  spits 
and  the  bars,  the  sands  are  caught  up  very  much 
as  light  snow  by  winter  winds,  are  hurried 
coastward,  and  flung  in  long  beds  and  banks  on 
the  beaches.    Layer  upon  layer  they  are  heaped 


The  Louis- 
iana coast. 


Give  and 
take  of  land 
and  sea. 


Return  of 
the  sands 
from  the 
sea. 


156 


THE  OPAL   SEA 


Drift  of 
sands. 


Saitd  dunes. 


on  the  shore,  above  the  tide  line,  over  the 
shells,  over  the  kelp,  over  the  vanishing  wrecks 
of  ships. 

In  a  few  days  perhaps  these  tons  and  tons 
of  newly-arrived  sands  have  dried  out  in  the 
sun,  and  when  the  cool  sea  breezes  blow  inland 
to  take  the  j^lace  of  the  vacuum  left  by  the 
rising  heated  air  of  the  coast,  the  sands  begin 
to  move.  Backward  from  the  sea  they  drive  and 
drift;  but  they  do  not  go  far  before  meeting 
with  obstructions.  It  may  be  only  a  piece  of 
timber  or  a  clump  of  bushes ;  but  in  either  case 
when  once  a  pause  is  made,  once  an  obstacle 
bars  the  way,  the  sand  bank  begins  to  grow  like 
the  snow  bank.  The  sand  drifts  up  and  over, 
dropping  at  the  back,  so  that  there  is  a  con- 
tinual accumulation  in  the  rear;  while  grasses 
seem  to  spring  up  and  pin  down  what  is  already 
gathered.  And  so  perhaps,  after  many  years, 
there  is  a  row  of  sand  hills  or  dunes  stretch- 
ing along  the  beach,  thinly  covered  with  a 
long,  wiry  grass  that  holds  them  in  shape  like 
a  net. 

The  dunes  are  barriers  against  the  sea  aud 
very  effective  ones  at  that.  As  sand  they  are 
more  indestructible  than  they  ever  were  as  rock. 
The  hard  surviving  kernels  of  the  stone  they 
are  usually  of  uniform  size  and  pack  together 


THE   WAVE  S   TOOTH 


157 


like  ball-snow,  making  a  flat,  smooth  face  that 
the  water  does  not  readily  fracture.  The  blow 
of  the  wave  falling  on  the  beach  presses  the 
sands  more  tightly  together,  but  does  not  neces- 
sarily disintegrate  them;  the  swash  of  the 
breaker  at  the  foot  of  the  dunes  rolls  the  sur- 
face sands  about  and  sometimes  carries  them 
away,  but  not  so  fast  as  they  accumulate.  The 
tendency  is  to  move  the  dunes  landward  and 
the  beaches  seaward.  Thus  nature  thinks  to 
make  up  for  the  loss  of  the  cliff  by  extending 
the  gain  of  the  shore.  With  things  inanimate, 
as  well  as  with  living  species,  there  is  an  appar- 
ent attempt  to  maintain  the  status  quo.  Change 
is  continuous,  unceasing;  but  the  law  of  com- 
pensation sees  to  it  that  there  is  no  final  loss. 
Sea  and  land  seem  continually  at  warfare,  but 
the  result  is  merely  an  exchange  of  possessions. 
For  the  dunes  are  by  no  means  invulnerable 
to  the  sea.  Pieced  out  by  human  aid  in  build- 
ing connecting  dykes  across  inlets  they  last  per- 
haps for  decades,  protecting  such  a  back-coun- 
trv  as  Holland,  and  allowing  towns  and  villages 
with  surrounding  farm  lands  to  exist  below  the 
level  of  the  sea;  but  when  violent  storms  come 
dykes  and  dunes  sometimes  go  down  before  the 
waves,  and  great  destruction  follows.  The 
Zuider  Zee  was  thus  made  from  a  shallow  lake 


Dunes  as 

sea 
barriers. 


Maintain- 
ing the 
status  quo. 


Dpkes  of 
HoUand, 


158 


THE  OPAL   SEA 


Inundations 

from  the 
North  Sea. 


into  an  arm  of  the  North  Sea.  Inundations 
along  the  Dutch  coast  have  been  frequent — at 
one  time  destroying  a  hundred  thousand  lives, 
at  another  submerging  seventy-two  villages. 
And  always  creating  new  water  ways.  It  was  not 
until  the  sixteenth  century  that  the  dykes  were 
so  firmly  constructed  that  the  sea  was  finally 
barred  out  from  the  northern  jSTetherlands. 

Nor  are  the  dunes  always  stationary,  even 
where  free  from  the  worry  of  the  waves.  The 
sands  are  uneasy  and  keep  traveling  with  the 
wind,  as  the  wind  blows.  Given  a  current  of 
air  and  a  free  passage-way,  and  they  im- 
mediately go  winding  like  a  golden  snake, 
pouring  themselves  upon  some  newly-formed 
mound,  which  presently  lifts  into  a  dune. 
Where  the  coast  is  very  bare,  quite  unprotected 
by  heavy  grasses,  as  along  the  Cape  Cod  por- 
tion of  the  Massachusetts  shore,  the  dunes  are 
continually  blowing  away — changing  like  a  ka- 
leidoscope into  something  new  and  strange  every 
few  months.  And  in  some  places  they  have 
proved  as  destructive  to  property  as  the  waves. 
Lege,  a  village  near  Bordeaux,  has  had  its 
church  moved  and  rebuilt  three  times  in  mod- 
ern days;  and  much  of  the  village  has  been 
destroyed  by  the  inundating  sands.  Other  vil- 
lages along  the  coast  have  had  similar  experi- 


Travel  of 
the  sand 
dunes. 


Destruction 
of  villages 
by  anna. 


THE   wave's   tooth 


159 


ences.  In  open  untimbered  places  the  drift  has 
been  almost  inconceivable.  There  are  sand 
hills  on  the  Chihuahua  desert  that  have  become 
mountains  in  height,  yet  are  continually  drift- 
ing to  leeward  with  the  wind.  And  that  the 
vast  sands  of  Sahara  were  originally  blown  in- 
ward from  the  western  sea  shore  is  not  such 
a  wild  conjecture.  All  things  are  possible  in 
the  realm  of  nature. 

But  whatever  compensation  there  may  be  in 
sand  piled  along  beach  and  dune  and  desert, 
however  this  may  atone  for  the  loss  of  the  cliffs, 
it  does  not  stay  the  destruction.  That  constant 
fret  at  the  edge  of  land  and  sea  goes  on  for- 
ever. Century  after  century  running  into  un- 
known ages  there  have  been  the  rub  of  the  wave, 
the  grind  of  sand  and  gravel,  the  pound  of 
surge,  and  the  swish  of  high-flung  spray.  Beau- 
tiful is  the  sea  in  all  its  movements,  never  more 
beautiful  than  when  tossing  and  turning  at  the 
foot  of  the  cliff;  but  in  the  end  the  moving 
glittering  sand  proves  diamond-edged;  and  the 
smooth  wave,  so  like  a  tiger's  paw  in  its  velvety 
touch,  shows  the  sharp  claw  beneath.  A  lover 
moaning  at  the  feet  of  the  Earth — such  was 
the  Sea  in  ancient  fable.  Yes;  but  his  kisses 
have  worn  her  away,  and  his  love  is  the  passion 
that  consumes  and  destroys. 


Sands  of 
Sahara. 


The  sea  at 
foot  of  the 
cliff. 


The  tiger's 
pnv'  and  the 
lover's  kiss. 


CHAPTER    VIII 


SOUNDING  SHORES 


Footprints 
of  the  sea. 


Dover  Cliff. 


Sandwich 
bench. 


Along  the  shore  where  the  restless  pacing  of 
waves  never  ceases,  only  there  are  the  foot- 
prints of  the  sea.  The  crescent  beaches,  the 
jagged  coasts  of  honeycombed  slate,  the  defiles 
cut  through  granite,  the  channel  ways  leading 
into  lagoons  and  harbors — these  are  the  blazed 
trails  of  the  waves.  Destruction  follows  along 
them;  and  yet,  as  we  have  seen,  the  sea  some- 
times builds  up  as  well  as  pulls  down.  Since 
Roman  days  she  has  harried  and  worn  Dover 
Cliff,  scattering  its  sands  far  and  wide ;  but  dur- 
ing the  intervening  years,  from  other  sources, 
she  has  built  up  Sandwich  beach  and  turned  its 
one-time  harbor  into  dunes  and  meadows. 

Tbe  sea  began  to  slip  away  from  the  old 
Cinque  port  many  centuries  ago.  "WHien  the 
east  wind  blew  across  the  North  Sea,  and  the 
waves  rolled  over  Goodwin  Sands,  perhaps  parts 
of  that  shifting  bed  were  carried  inland  and 
heaped  upon  the  Kentish  beach ;  when  the  west 
wind  blew  perhaps  it  dried  the  sands  and  then 
banked  them  into  dunes  that  step  by  step  fought 

160 


SOUNDING   SHORES 


161 


their  way  seaward.  However  it  was,  the  land 
gained  on  the  sea,  the  old  town  with  its  Nor- 
man church,  its  walls  of  flint  and  crumbled 
moat,  was  deserted  by  its  ally;  and  to-day  it 
stands  two  miles  inland — a  town  without  a  har- 
bor, a  port  without  ships.  Small  craft  still 
creep  along  the  muddy  Stour  and  anchor  at  the 
Fishers'  Gate,  but  not  since  Plantagenet  days 
have  the  waves  paced  up  and  down  by  the  an- 
cient walls. 

From  the  village  going  down  to  the  beach 
one  crosses  meadows  that  look  now  as  perhaps 
did  Goodwin  Sands  in  the  days  of  the  Saxon. 
After  a  mile  or  more  across  these  flat  lands  the 
dunes  appear.  They  are  tumbled-and-tossed 
dunes  that  drift  little  to-day  because  held  firm 
by  beach  grasses ;  but  in  form  they  roll  and  dip 
and  hollow  like  a  cross-cut  sea,  and  seem  to 
have  been  formed  in  some  convulsion  of  the 
coast.  The  convulsion,  however,  never  took 
place.  The  formation  is  due  solely  to  the  winds 
that  seem  forever  whirling  and  twisting  along 
this  coast.  It  was  possibly  the  very  irregularity 
of  these  dunes  and  their  abundance  of  "  haz- 
ards "  that  led  the  St.  George's  Club  to  occupy 
them  as  a  golf  course.  It  is  known  to-day 
as  the  "  champion  course,"  and  is  often  spoken 
of  as  "  the  links  by  the  sea." 


The  old 
town  of 
Sandwich. 


Across  the 
meadows. 


The  St. 
George's 
golf  course. 


162 


THE  OPAL  SEA 


Gray 
waters. 


A  wreck  on 

Goodwin 

Sands. 


Far  down  at  the  foot  of  the  dunes  are  the 
waves.  When  the  tide  is  at  flood  the  golfer,  if 
he  will,  may  look  out  upon  the  gray  water  where 
dingy  sails  of  ships  melt  into  thick  misty  air, 
where  Channel  fishing-boats  bob  up  and  down 
in  the  choppy  waves,  and  where  coal-burning 
steamers,  coming  up  Dover  way  with  the  wind, 
are  smothered  in  their  own  smoke — dirty  black- 
hulled  steamers  that  wallow  and  stagger  through 
the  gray-yellow  water  as  though  top  heavy.  It  is 
a  wonderful  sea,  at  times  a  terrible  sea,  a  sea 
that  has  been  often  strewn  with  wrecks  and  is 
ever  dreaded  by  the  sailor.  To-day  perhaps  it  is 
tranquil  enough  but  to-morrow  it  may  be  dash- 
ing high  over  Goodwin  Sands,  threatening  the 
shipping  in  the  Downs;  and  foaming  up  the 
dunes  with  caps  of  spray  that  leap  and  ride 
upon  the  winds  like  Valkyries.  Not  the  depth 
of  the  water  but  its  shallowness  makes  it  dan- 
gerous. A  ship  driven  in  by  a  gale  strikes 
upon  the  Sands,  is  lifted  and  pounded  by  the 
come-and-go  of  each  wave,  is  strained  and 
wrenched  from  stem  to  rudder  post;  until  at 
last  with  opened  seams  and  broken  back  she 
rolls  a  helpless  wreck.  Backward  and  forward 
she  tosses  as  the  waves  come  and  go — waves  that 
are  all  fury  and  swing  over  the  hulk  with  a  sav- 
age swish,  tearing  at  blocks  and   sheets   and 


SOUNDING   SHORES 


163 


shrouds,  twisting  planks  and  bulwarks  and 
stanchions.  Up  into  the  rigging  the  white 
crests   reach,   striking   and   wrenching   at    the 


sailors  clinging  there,  until  one  by  one,  ex- 
hausted by  cold  and  bewildered  with  spray, 
the  men  are  shaken  loose  and  drop  into  the 
seething  foam.  It  is  an  old  old  story  along 
this  coast.  Everyone  between  Margate  and 
Dover  has  the  same  tale  to  tell. 

When  the  tide  is  at  ebb  the  dunes  are  nearly 
a  mile  from  the  sea.  A  great  stretch  of  wet, 
glittering  sand,  flat  as  a  floor,  reaches  down  to 
the  water's  edge.  Here  and  there  are  shallow 
pools  where  shore  birds  wade  and  the  images 
of  shrimpers  and  bait-diggers,  seen  in  reflec- 
tion, look  stilted  and  uncanny  as  though  elon- 
gated by  mirage.  A  long  line  of  black  kelp 
stretches  where  the  last  high  tide  washed,  shells 
and  blue  flints  are  scattered  everywhere,  ribs 
of  wrecked  schooners  push  up  like  fire-eaten 
stumps  from  the  sand.  As  you  move  down 
toward  the  water  the  footing  grows  less  secure, 
the  sands  become  muddier,  more  grimy,  black- 
ish, a  half  submerged  flat  spreads  out;  and  at 
an  indefinable  edge  there  is  the  break  of  the 
-a  greenish-gray  wave  with  a  foam  upon 


An  old,  old 
story. 


wave- 


it  like  yellow  cream. 

It  is  not  a  lovable  shore. 


Tke  stretch 
of  wet 
beach. 


The  half 

submerged 

fiat. 


There  is  nothing 


164 


THE  OPAL   SEA 


A  gray 
hnrmony 
along  shore. 


Somber  col- 
oring of 
North  Sea. 


The  Scottish 
coast. 


gentle  or  charming  or  winning  about  it.  But 
the  reach  of  it  commands  respect.  And,  too, 
the  elements  of  land,  sea,  and  sky  are  here  re- 
duced to  their  simplest  terms.  Color  is  a  half- 
tone made  up  of  green  and  yellow,  quite  abso- 
lute in  its  harmony;  the  air  is  a  thick  veiling 
which  unites  everything;  the  light  is  muffled, 
strained  through  clouds,  grayed  by  moisture. 
Mist  and  cloud  mingle  with  the  smoke  of  com- 
merce to  complete  the  picturesque  if  sad  mono- 
tone. 

Yet  the  leaden  skies  that  so  often  hang  over 
these  English  waters  are  depressing;  and,  for 
all  the  strength  of  their  somber  coloring  the 
coasts  are  a  bit  mournful.  The  North  Sea  in  no 
part  of  it  shows  nature  in  her  most  entrancing 
moods.  Up  under  the  rocky  edge  of  Suther- 
land, the  skies  are  clearer  but  the  water  little 
brighter.  It  is  usually  steel-blue  like  that  of 
the  Black  Sea.  The  old  red  sandstone  turns 
dark  at  the  water's  edge,  the  beaches  have  gray 
lusterless  sands  packed  in  about  the  blackened 
stumps  of  rocks,  and  the  sea  weed  is  blackish, 
too.  And  almost  always  an  uneasy  water — 
choppy  waves,  waves  that  are  forever  slapping 
the  cliff  walls,  or  else  eddying  currents  that  go 
gurgling  through  rock  fissures  and  whirl  about 
sunken  reefs.    At  night  the  rocky  coast  becomes 


SOUNDING   SHORES 


165 


dark,  forbidding,  sepulchral  with  the  sound  of 
the  sea, 

"The  nightmared  ocean  murmurs  and  yearns 
Welters  and  swashes  and  tosses  and  turns 
And  the  dreary  black  sea  weed  lolls  and  wags; 
Only  a  moan  through  the  black  clefts  blown 
With  sobs  in  the  rifts  where  the  coarse  kelp  shifts, 
Falling  and  lifting,  tossing  and  drifting, 
And  under  all  a  deep  dull  roar 
Dying  and  swelling  forever  more ." 

It  is  all  so  very  different  along  the  tropic 
shores  of  the  Pacific  or  the  Atlantic,  where  fog 
and  mist  are  seldom  seen  and  cold  is  never 
known,  where  commerce  has  not  defiled  the 
waters  nor  manufactures  blackened  the  blue  fir- 
mament. On  the  coasts  of  Central  America — 
to  go  no  further  seaward — there  are  miles  and 
miles  of  beaches  that  have  no  name  nor  history 
and  have  been  trodden  only  by  Indian  feet. 
Wonderful  beaches  they  are,  dazzling  in  light 
and  color  !  All  the  glitter  of  the  shore  is  theirs 
— sands  of  quartz  and  coral  flashing  in  their 
whiteness,  sands  of  peroxide  of  iron  and  flakes 
of  mica,  mosaic  sands  with  strata  of  carnelian, 
obsidian,  and  agate.  And  here,  too,  is  the  shat- 
tered and  outworn  life  of  the  sea,  shells  of 
pearl  in  countless  numbers,  ribbons  and  fronds 


Central 

American 

beaches. 


The  i/litter 
and  niter 
of  the  shore. 


166 


THE   OPAL  SEA 


Singing 
sands. 


The  cres- 
cent beach. 


and  Gulf  weed  from  reef  and  shallow,  jelly 
fish,  star  fish,  sea-jiorcupine,  sea-turtle — all  the 
flora  and  fauna  of  the  Gulf  and  beyond.  But 
seldom  a  relic  or  a  trace  of  humanity.  No 
wreck,  no  broken  boat,  no  message  in  a  bottle 
finds  its  way  here.  Nature  still  holds  a  sway 
as  undisputed  as  when  the  Spanish  conquerors 
came.  The  terraced  beach  is  perfect  in  its 
sweep,  the  sands  as  they  crunch  under  the  foot 
seem  musical;  and  the  blue  waves  that  ride  in 
with  snowy  crests  break  on  the  white  shores 
with  a  sound  like  distant  cathedral  bells  at 


evening. 


Of  all  the  beaches,  in  the  tropics  or  elsewhere, 
perhaps  the  sickle-shaped  or  crescent  beach 
is  the  most  graceful  in  form.  Especially  is 
this  true  when  the  curve  of  the  shore  is  em- 
phasized by  contrasting  cliffs  or  rocky  head- 
lands near  at  hand.  The  abrupt  perpendicular 
line  seems  necessary  to  bring  out  the  winding 
horizontal  line.  And  yet  graceful  as  is  this 
winding  curving  beach,  it  is  perhaps  not  so 
impressive,  not  so  strong,  as  the  broader  sim- 
pler shores.  Along  every  coast,  sometimes  for 
hundreds  of  miles,  are  straight-away  stretches 
where  sea  and  shore  seem  to  parallel  each  other 
in  long  vanishing  lines  that  are  nothing  less 
than  sublime  in  their  reach.    More  often,  how- 


SOUNDING  SHORES 


167 


ever,  the  beach  has  its  marked  irregularities 
such  as  sand  spits  thrust  seaward,  bays  inter- 
sected, inlets  cut  through,  depressions,  eleva- 
tions, steps,  platforms,  terraces,  runways.  The 
wind  will  carve  a  thousand  fantastic  shapes 
from  banks  of  sand;  the  wearing  waves  will  do 
no  less  for  the  beaches. 

The  fineness  or  coarseness  of  the  shore  sands 
is  usually  dependent  upon  the  nearness  of  the 
cliffs.  The  closer  to  the  rocks,  the  coarser  will 
be  the  stone  and  gravel.  The  shorter  quarter- 
circle  beaches  are  usually  found  in  between  the 
gaps  of  a  rocky  coast,  and  mingled  with  their 
sands  will  be  found  all  sorts  of  pebbles — flints, 
agates,  granites,  porphyries.  Here  also  will  be 
found  the  shells  of  molluscs,  the  spiney  casings 
of  sea  urchins,  sprays  of  coral,  claw  of  crab, 
tooth  of  shark,  and  conch  of  stromb.  Winding 
ribbons  of  the  deep,  frail  in  form  and  color,  are 
interwoven  with  long  sea  grasses;  and  caught 
in  the  meshes  of  these  are  pink  star  fish,  gas- 
tropods lying  lifeless  in  their  gay-hued  houses, 
and  Portuguese  men-of-war  with  iridescent 
float  collapsed  and  tentacles  frayed  and  torn. 
Both  the  flora  and  the  fauna  of  the  sea  pre- 
fer the  coarser  beaches  because  they  afford 
better  feeding  grounds,  and  at  the  same  time 
greater  protection.     There  is  shelter  to  be  had 


The  irregu- 
lar share. 


Beaches  of 
stone  and 
gravel. 


Strewn  on 
the  sands. 


168 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


about  the  rocks  and  within  the  pot  holes  and 
gravel  pens,  not  only  from  the  assaults  of  the 
wave  but  from  the  common  enemy. 

The  beaches  far  removed  from  cliffs  or  rocky 
outcroppings  are  always  made  up  of  the  finer 
sands,  and  are  studded  with  shells  of  the  fora- 
minifera  and  polycystina.  These  smaller  shells 
are  not  usually  seen,  except  under  the  micro- 
scope, and  a  shore  made  up  of  them  looks  like 
an  ordinary  stretch  of  white  sand.  Yet  they  are 
far  from  white.  Many  of  them  have  gaily- 
stained  lips,  others  are  roofed  with  shells  of 
pink,  rose,  blue,  and  yellow ;  and  all  of  them  are 
surprising  in  their  spirals  and  patterns.  The 
beaches  are  heaped  with  these  minute  shells, 
and  mingled  with  them  are  flashing  crystals, 
black  dots  of  magnetic  iron,  gray  needles  of 
flint,  crushed  fragments  of  mother-of-pearl. 
Taken  together  and  perhaps  by  virtue  of  their 
varied  colors,  they  form  a  beach  of  white  sand 
which  we  tread  under  foot  without  a  thought — 
a  mosaic  beach  constructed  of  millions  of  tiny 
patterns  which  the  water  is  always  keeping 
clean  and  the  sunlight  is  ever  flashing  into 
beauty. 

The  waves  as  they  rise  and  break  upon  such 
a  beach  seem  all  crystalline  clearness.  During 
a  storm,  when  they  come  in  with  sufficient  force 


SOUNDITiG   SHORES 


169 


to  stir  the  bottom  muds,  they  may  be  clouded, 
sand-colored,  yellowish;  but  the  summer  wave 
that  breaks  easily,  runs  up  the  beach  in  a  flat 
push  of  water,  and  then  sucks  back  under  the 
foot  of  the  new-coming  wave,  causes  no  dis- 
coloration of  importance.  The  most  graceful 
and  the  most  perfect  form  of  the  breaker  is 
sho\sTi  when  the  water  strikes  the  beach  not 
at  an  angle  but  broadside.  With  such  a  wave 
the  crest  is  not  continuous  across  the  whole 
breadth.  On  the  contrary,  there  is  a  tendency 
in  the  crest  to  concentrate  at  the  highest  point, 
and  the  white  lip  of  foam  that  rushes  forward 
and  do\^Ti  usually  comes  from  a  well-defined 
center.  Nor  is  it  often  that  a  great  lone  wave 
comes  in  and  breaks  on  the  beach  with  a  crash. 
The  beach  combers  are  generally  very  regular, 
of  short  length,  and  they  break  very  much  as 
white  caps  in  mid-ocean,  only  more  violently. 

It  is  quite  useless,  however,  to  attempt  a  rule 
about  breakincr  waves  for  thev  are  far  too  vari- 
able.  The  wind  determines  the  size,  form,  di- 
rection, and  velocity;  and  the  water  but  obeys 
the  drive  of  the  wind.  Where  the  waves  strike 
the  beach  diagonally  there  is  a  longer  and  ap- 
parently a  more  continuous  breaking  of  the 
crest  for  some  distance  down  the  beach;  and 
frequently,  when  the  wind  is  blowing  almost 


Waves  on 
the  beach. 


Beach 
combers. 


Forres  of 

bieiiliiity 

waves. 


170 


THE  OPAL   SEA 


Wave 
furrows. 


Grace   of 
water  again. 


Color  of 
the  wave. 


parallel  with  the  shore,  the  waves  will  curl  and 
fall  at  their  shore  end  like  a  furrow  cast  by  a 
plow.  Such  beach  combers  will  travel  along  the 
sands,  sometimes  for  many  miles,  each  white 
furrow  having  its  successor  marching  at  its 
heels  and  breaking  along  the  shore  in  snowy 
sequence. 

Very  beautiful  is  the  breaking  wave !  Water 
forms  are  always  beautiful  because  of  their  elas- 
ticity, their  pliability,  their  perfect  abandon  in 
movement.  The  reckless,  careless,  surging  wave 
seems  to  have  about  it  the  grace  of  the  unpre- 
meditated. It  is  rhythmical  and  harmonious 
and  yet,  apparently,  unrestrained  by  law  or  pat- 
tern. Each  one  that  comes  hurrying  in  from 
Newfoundland  banks  or  African  shore  seems 
freighted  with  a  message  and  falls  breathless 
in  its  telling.  It  rises,  curves,  and  curls,  and 
as  it  bends  downward  a  long  bar  of  silver  light 
flashes  along  its  top.  At  this  moment — the 
moment  before  the  fall — the  wave  throws  off  its 
most  beautiful  light  and  color.  The  crest  is 
bluish-white  like  a  shadow  cast  upon  snow, 
below  it  the  thin  transparent  wedge  of  water 
shows  a  rare  blue-green;  and  still  lower  the 
wave  base  shades  into  a  darker  blue.  Color, 
light,  sky  reflection,  and  foaming  crest  are  all 
mixed  for  a  moment  in  a  symphony  of  blue  and 


SOUNDING   SHORES 


171 


white.  Then  with  a  hollow  cataract  roar  the 
vision  disappears  in  the  shattered  fragments 
that  surge  up  the  beach. 

Quite  as  beautiful  as  the  crested  water  that 
buckles  and  swells  to  its  fall  is  the  fallen  wa- 
ter that,  driven  forward  by  its  own  impetus, 
finally  spreads  into  round  thin  mirrors  on  the 
sands.     It  flattens  and  rolls  into  the  most  de- 
lightful  rococo   curves   as   the   beaded   edging 
widens  here,  narrows  there,  and  yet  holds  its 
unity  everywhere.     What  a  mirror  of  Aphro- 
dite it  is,  so  clear,  so  limpid,  so  perfect  in 
its  glassy  surface!     Every  marine  painter  has 
painted  it,  every  poet  has  used  it  in  metaphor 
or    simile,    every    dreamer    by    the    shore    has 
watched  it  form   and  gleam  and  pass  away; 
and  yet  it  never  palls,  never  wearies.    The  pale 
skies  of  morning,  the  rosy  skies  of  evening,  the 
blue    canopy,    the   bright    cloud    are   reflected 
there;  and  by  day  or  by  night  the  sun,  moon, 
and  all  the  starry  heavens  are  seen  upon  its 
surface.     That  watery  shield  flung  flat  upon 
the  beach  but  to  perish,  how  illustrative  it  is 
of  nature's  prodigality  of  beauty ! 

Alas !  that  the  shining  mirror  is  so  quickly 
shattered.  Each  one  is  no  sooner  brought  to 
perfection  than  it  wavers,  trembles,  and  then 
begins  a  precipitate  retreat  down  the  beach. 


Water  mir- 
rors on  the 
beach. 


The  reflec- 
tion of  the 
water 
shield. 


Retreat  of 
the  water 


172 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Wave 

traceries  in 
the  sand. 


Shore  line 
in  minia- 
hire. 


C'olorinq  of 
the  shore. 


Down,  down  it  rushes,  dragging  with  it  sand, 
shells,  and  pebbles ;  and  gathering  its  forces  to- 
gether disappears  under  the  base  of  the  new 
wave  that  is  forming.  Nothing  is  left  of  it 
but  a  ring  of  froth  and  the  lines  in  the  sand 
made  by  the  retreating  water.  Very  beautiful 
again  are  these  lines — these  wave  traceries  left 
for  a  few  seconds  on  the  beach.  A  glimpse  of 
them  between  the  come  and  go  of  the  waters 
may  reveal  a  whole  shore  line  in  miniature, 
with  bays,  creeks,  cliffs,  and  beaches  all  in  place. 
Higher  up  on  the  beach  where  the  waves  have 
worn  deeper  perhaps,  there  may  be  steps  sur- 
rounding a  half-circle  suggestive  of  a  Eoman 
arena,  or  rolls  of  sand  with  valleys  in  between 
in  very  form  of  the  waves  themselves,  or  little 
fiords  cut  back  into  the  dunes  with  steep  banks 
or  basins  where  the  salt  water  stands  in  pools 
and  sea  weeds  grow,  and  the  drip  of  iron  stain 
from  near-by  rocks  colors  the  pool  a  bright 
orange. 

These  mirrors  that  come  and  go,  the  wet 
sands,  the  still  ponds  that  lie  in  beach  pockets, 
the  pools  that  gather  under  the  stern  of  some 
half-buried  wreck  or  rest  in  some  catch-basin 
of  the  rocks,  play  with  the  sea  itself  an  im- 
portant part  in  the  coloring  of  the  shore.  They 
are  all  reflectors  of  light;  and  light,  falling  as 


SOUNDING  siiorp:s 


173 


it  does  through  a  heavy  sea  air,  is  strained  and 
changed  in  the  straining  process,  as  we  have 
already  noted.  At  times  when  it  is  cold  the 
air  is  tinged  bluish-purple,  and  everything 
along  the  shore  takes  on  a  tint  in  correspond- 
ence therewith.  The  waves  have  a  violet  hue 
about  them,  the  sands  turn  lilac,  the  rocks  grow 
pallid  with  bluish  shadows.  At  other  times, 
especially  at  sunset  when  the  sky  overhead  is 
flaming  with  crimson  and  scarlet,  a  reddish 
tone  will  spread  along  the  beach,  warming  the 
dark  cliff-rocks  into  a  strange  glow  of  life,  and 
changing  the  white  dunes  into  hills  of  red  por- 
phyry. With  the  sky  overcast  and  the  light 
falling  through  filmy  clouds  the  effect  is  lost 
in  gray,  gray  shore  and  cliff  and  sea ;  and  when 
a  thin  fog  is  lifting  and  the  sun  looks  like  a 
shining  silver  plate,  the  effect  is  milky  white, 
blue-white  as  though  seen  through  opal  glass. 
The  shore  is  very  susceptible  to  influences  of 
light;  and  any  color — dull  green,  gas-blue,  pale 
yellow,  pure  pink — may  chance  to  dominate  the 
scene. 

And  what  of  the  golden  coloring  of  moonlight 
that  gilds  the  pinnacles  of  the  cliffs,  flashes 
from  the  wet  sands,  and  glitters  along  the  tops 
of  the  falling  breakers !  Vastly  impressive 
when  the  tide  is  at  its  ebb  is  this  moonlight  | 


Light 
effects  and 
shore  re- 
flections. 


Monnlinht 
alonq  the 
shore. 


J  74 


THE  OPAL   SEA 


Nocturnes. 


Sound  of 
the  sea  on 
the  beach. 


along  the  shore.  Miles  away  down  the  exposed 
strand  it  reaches,  and  even  beyond  the  lift  of 
wreck  and  reef  and  island,  it  gleams  on  distant 
bays,  on  dripping  slates  and  foam-washed 
beaches.  And  the  dark  mysterious  shadows 
that  everywhere  creep  in  to  offset  the  gilded 
high  lights  are  quite  as  fascinating.  There  is 
no  more  beautiful  play  of  gold  upon  blue-black 
than  the  sea  under  moonlight;  and  no  theme 
has  so  baffled  the  landscape  painter  as  this 
subtle  "  nocturne  "  by  the  shore. 

And  yet  quite  as  impressive  in  its  way  as 
light  and  color,  even  more  moving  emotionally, 
is  the  sound  of  the  sea  on  the  beach.  The  liq- 
uid murmur  of  pouring  water,  the  clink  and 
tinkle  of  sands  and  shells,  the  deep  undertone 
of  the  breakers  make  up  a  bar  of  music  that 
cannot  be  set  to  words;  and  yet  as  it  runs  on, 
repeating  the  same  sad  note,  how  real  it  be- 
comes !  Was  there  ever  such  another  dirge 
chanted  by  the  elements ! 

"Listen!  you  hear  the  grating  roar 
Of  pebbles  which  the  waves  draw  back  and  fling, 
At  their  return,  up  the  high  strand 
Begin  and  cease,  and  then  again  begin 
With  tremulous  cadence  slow,  and  bring 
The  eternal  note  of  sadness  in?" 

What  a  note  it  is !    The  restless  one  who  turnvS 


SOUNDING   SHORES 


175 


uneasily  upon  the  pillow,  and  looks  to  the 
window  to  see  the  coming  light,  hears,  even 
in  the  early  morning  hours,  a  shock  upon  the 
air,  the  roar  of  wide-spread  London  town;  but 
indicative  as  it  is  of  human  want  and  misery, 
pathetic  as  it  may  be  in  its  tale  of  unceasing 
labor,  it  has  not  half  the  sadness  in  it  of  the 
sounding  shore.  The  pine  needles  overhead 
sing  in  the  wind,  and  there  are  voices  in  the 
stirred  leaves  of  the  forest  akin  to  those  of 
the  sea;  but  they  are  not  quite  the  same.  The 
great  shut-in  valleys  of  the  Andes  and  the  si- 
lent sweeps  of  Sahara  with  their  hum  of  dis- 
tance seem  to  suggest  the  roar  of  the  ocean,  as 
the  sea  shell  which  the  child  holds  to  its  ear; 
but  again  it  is  only  a  suggestion.  The  sound 
of  the  surf  has  its  owti  inimitable  sadness. 

Solemn  and  deep  the  recurrent  beat  of  the 
sea ;  and  what  is  there  in  it  that  makes  us  think 
of  Northern  shores  and  Viking  days?  We 
somehow  never  associate  the  heavy  surge  with 
the  southern  seas,  the  coral  reefs,  or  the  shell- 
strewn  beaches.  It  has  a  hollow  roar  that 
speaks  of  caves,  fiords,  maelstroms,  rough  seas, 
bleak  coasts,  great  storms.  Unconsciously  we 
conjure  up  images  of  Norsemen  in  their 
strange-prowed  boats,  of  Icelandic  heroes,  of 
Tristans   and   Iseults,   of   Balders   and   Brun- 


The  roar  of 
London. 


Other 
sounds  in 
nature. 


Recurrent 
beating  of 
the  sea. 


176 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Rvfioestion 
of  the 
sound. 


Science  and 
aentimeni. 


hildes;  and  the  passing  away  of  the  gods  from 
the  shores  of  the  earth  and  the  face  of  the 
waters.  Solemn  and  deep  the  sound  of  the  sea 
like  the  drums  in  Siegfried's  Death  March,  tell- 
ing of  a  glory  that  has  ended,  of  an  age  and  a 
race  that  are  no  more. 

Fancy !  pure  fancy !  The  sea  tells  no  tales. 
Science  can  explain  the  cause  of  the  sound  and 
analyze  its  notes  to  a  nicety;  and  psychology 
can  tell  us  just  why  and  how  our  minds  make 
a  mountain  out  of  the  mole  hill.  Yes ;  but  the 
romance  is  none  the  less  real  for  that.  It  is 
only  a  clashing  of  water  on  the  beach,  if  you 
please,  but  to  those  who  have  imagination  and 
feeling  it  may  be  freighted  with  many  mean- 
ings. The  glamour  of  the  world,  the  storm  of 
passion,  the  stress  of  living,  the  peace  of  pass- 
ing— songs  of  the  soul,  choral  hymns,  and  fu- 
neral dirges — all  are  there.  Like  the  strung 
strings  of  a  harp  each  one  of  us  may  vibrate 
to  a  different  note,  but  somewhere  in  the  sym- 
phony of  the  sea  there  is  the  note  that  strikes 
its  responsive  chord  in  each.  Science  may  be 
true — indisputably  so — but  it  does  not  follow 
therefrom  that  sentiment  is  false. 


Why  are 
not  both  of 
tliem  truet 


CHAPTER   IX 


GARDENS  OF  THE  SEA 


The  flowers  of  the  sea  are  flowers  more  in 
appearance  than  in  reality.  Seen  in  masses 
through  the  clear  water  they  look  like  beds  of 
mountain  pinks  or  fields  of  ferns  or  hill  sides 
of  wild  asters,  with  moss  and  ice  plant  and 
cactus  growths  scattered  between ;  but  the  like- 
ness is  superficial.  The  plants  are  very  differ- 
ent from  those  known  on  the  earth.  They  have 
no  root,  they  absorb  nothing  from  the  soil,  they 
require  neither  rain  nor  air,  and  some  of  them 
manage  to  exist  with  little  or  no  light.  There 
are  no  blossoming  forms,  no  leaves,  seldom 
any  fruit ;  and  while  there  are  growths  having 
a  foothold  on  the  bottom  that  rise  up  through 
a  thousand  feet  of  water  to  float  ball-shaped 
tangles  upon  the  surface,  yet  in  form  they  are 
not  at  all  like  trees.  The  "  trunk  "  that  climbs 
upward  so  many  feet  is  no  larger  than  one's 
finger  and  the  bunch  of  weed  at  the  surface 
that  makes  a  sleeping  place  for  the  sea  otter 

177 


Plant  life 
of  the  sea. 


Different 
growl) IS 
from  those 
of  the  land. 


178 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Conditions 
of  growth. 


has  nothing  like  the  foliage  of  the  maple  or 
the  blossom  of  the  horse  chestnut. 

Indeed,  the  wonder  is  not  that  such  odd 
plants  grow  in  the  sea,  but  that  there  should  be 
plants  there  of  any  kind.  The  salts  and  other 
minerals  of  the  water  would  seem  sufficient  in 
themselves  to  destroy,  but  they  are  not ;  absence 
of  light  and  air  would  seem  to  be  blighting,  but 
it  is  not.  The  endeavor  is  not  stifled.  Nature 
with  her  marvellous  resources  adapts  the  plant 
to  its  habitat  and,  out  of  what  might  be  thought 
desperate  conditions,  produces  forms  of  useful- 
ness and  beauty.  The  growths  are  given  claws 
like  a  bird's  foot  wherewith  they  cling  to  the 
rock;  they  have  no  branches  but  in  their  place 
long  stems  and  fronds  through  which  they  ab- 
sorb floating  particles  in  the  water;  and  they 
perpetuate  their  kind  by  budding,  by  division, 
l)y  fertilization.  In  the  economy  of  nature 
even  the  cold  grottoes  of  the  shore,  and  the 
bleak,  muffled  ledges  of  the  deep  shall  not 
lie  fallow,  but  bring  forth  increase  that  the 
species  shall  not  die  out  and  that  no  corner  of 
the  sea  shall  lack  its  garb  of  beauty. 

The  wealth  of  nature's  resources,  her  suffi- 
ciency unto  each  and  every  crisis,  never  seem  to 
fail.  And  how  she  moulds  her  children  to  their 
varied  dwelling  places  and  fits  them  for  their 


Place  of 
growth. 


GARDENS   OF  THE   SEA 


179 


special  struggle !  How  long  would  the  stiff 
growths  of  the  earth  withstand  the  wrench  of 
the  wave  and  the  ceaseless  pelting  of  sand  and 
gravel  along  the  beaches?  Nature  does  not  at- 
tempt their  kind  in  the  sea.  There  is  nothing 
brittle  about  the  weeds  that  live  in  the  shallow 
waters  along  shore.  Their  long  stems  bend  and 
stretch  like  rubber,  and  their  rounded  fronds 
and  thongs  are  tough  as  leather.  Add  to  this  a 
glossy,  slippery  surface  that  offers  little  friction 
to  the  water,  with  air  bladders  or  pods  tliat 
keep  the  plant  from  being  torn  or  dragged 
upon  the  bottom,  and  you  have  a  growth  that 
rolls  and  sways  in  a  heavy  sea  and  comes  to 
no  more  harm  than  the  bending  grass  on  the 
prairies. 

And  out  of  perfect  adaptation  to  use  comes 
beauty.  What  sinuous  lines,  what  marvellous 
curves,  the  waves  beat  into  these  sea  weeds ! 
The  ribbons  and  streamers  and  tresses  swing 
and  toss  in  the  sea  until  the  very  grace  of  the 
wave  itself  is  theirs.  The  forms  of  Chorda,  of 
Lessonia,  of  Macrocystis  are  more  pliable  than 
whip  cord,  more  willowy  than  willow,  more 
wavy  than  the  streaming  hair  of  Masnads  or 
sea  sirens.  The  commoner  forms  of  wrack,  of 
kelp,  of  tangle  {Laminaria  digitata),  of  what, 
for   lack  of   a   better   name,   is   called   "rock 


Peculiar 
adaptation. 


Strength 
and  fitneaB 
of  sea  weeds. 


Grace  of  sea 
weeds. 


180 


THE   OPAL  SEA 


Swaying 
rock  weeds. 


weed  "  when  rolled  and  heaped  on  the  beach 
may  not  appear  attractive;  but  in  their  ocean 
home,  seen  through  a  blue  lens  of  water,  they 
sway  with  each  come  and  go  of  the  wave  with 
a  grace  quite  wonderful  and  quite  unparalleled. 
Even  that  wandering  waif  of  the  sea,  the  Gulf 
weed  (Sargassum),  drifting  in  the  great  At- 
lantic current,  has  a  bend  and  a  reel  about  it, 
as  it  slips  down  the  back  of  a  wave,  that  is 
almost  as  graceful  as  the  flight  of  the  petrel 
following  after  it. 

And  what  of  those  plants  far  down  in  the 
sea  gardens  that  never  feel  the  push  of  waves, 
those  plants  that  never  move  or  are  moved  from 
age  to  age?  Are  they  perhaps  modeled  upon 
the  same  pattern  as  their  cousins  near  the 
shore?  By  no  means.  In  the  depths  where  no 
storm  or  wave  ruffles  the  eternal  serenity  na- 
ture is  free  to  expand;  and  there  she  grows 
plants  of  symmetrical  designs  with  no  fear  of 
their  accidental  destruction.  Wonderful  forms 
she  models  —  crimson  weeds  with  pluraey 
fronds,  purple  dulses  with  lace-like  patterns, 
iridescent  mosses  with  antlered  branches. 
Countless  algw,  wing-shaped,  threaded  with 
lines,  cupped  and  domed,  starred  and  crossed 
and  circled,  are  there. 


Patterned 
forms  in 
deep  still 
waters. 


A  Igce  of  the 

greater 

depths. 


GARDENS   OF   THE   SEA 


181 


"In  the  wine-dark  depths  of  the  crystal,  the  gardens  of 
Nereus 
Coral  and  sea  fan  and  tangle,  the  blooms  and  the 

palms  of  the  ocean, 
Stand  in  meadows  and  forests  unchanging,  imfading 
from  decade  to  decade.'' 

For  thousands  upon  thousands  of  miles  un- 
der the  surface,  along  every  island  and  conti- 
nent, stretch  these  wondrous  growths  of  the 
sea.  They  were  not  made  for  us,  they  flourish 
where  human  eyes  never  see  them,  and  many 
of  them  shrink  when  human  hands  touch  them ; 
but  neither  their  life  nor  their  beauty  is  in 
vain.  Form  and  color  were  not  cast  in  sensu- 
ous moulds  especially  to  gratify  the  assthetic 
taste  of  the  human.  They  are,  indeed,  merely 
the  outer  manifestation  of  completeness,  of  fit- 
ness to  an  end;  and  it  may  be  that  plants  were 
garbed  with  beauty  to  please  a  sub-conscious 
feeling  of  their  own.  We  deny  it.  But  it  may 
be  true,  nevertheless. 

Not  everywhere  in  the  sea  do  these  gardens 
grow.  It  is  assumed  (perhaps  erroneously) 
that  the  great  depths  are  barren  and  that  plant 
life  goes  out  with  the  light  of  the  sun.  Certain 
it  is  that  the  bulk  of  the  sea  weeds — several 
thousand  species — grow  along  shore  in  fifteen 
or  twenty  fathoms  of  water  where  the  tempera- 


Extent  of 
the  sea 
gardens. 


Feeling 
in  plants. 


Groti'tlis 
along  shore. 


182 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


A   popular 
classifica- 
tion of  sea 
weeds. 


Green  dlgm. 


Blooms  and 
net  weeds 


ture  is  higher  than  in  the  depths,  and  the  yel- 
low sunlight  penetrates  to  the  bottom.  As  the 
shore  shelves  off  into  the  sea  the  growths  be- 
come smaller  and  smaller,  finally  disappearing 
entirely,  so  far  as  we  know.  In  a  very  general 
way  the  descent  seaward  is  marked  by  the  color 
of  the  sea  weeds ;  and  a  popular  classification  of 
them  by  color  may  be  made,  though  it  lacks 
scientific  accuracy. 

Along  the  shore,  often  in  tide  pools,  rock 
basins  and  marsh  inlets  are  the  numerous 
groups  and  families  of  the  class  Chlorophycece 
or  green  algcB.  The  color  comes  from  the  pres- 
ence of  chlorophyll  in  the  cells,  and  the  forms 
are  small  and  complicated.  The  bright-green 
sea  lettuce  ( Ulva) ,  the  iridescent  white-banded 
Peacock's  Tail  (Padina  pavonia),  the  fan- 
shaped  cladophora  {Cladopliora  arcta),  the 
green  laver  (Porpliyra  vulgaris),  the  sea  bottle 
(Valonia  ventricosa) ,  with  many  moss-like, 
netted,  filamental,  hairy,  spiny,  cactus-formed 
plants,  belong  to  this  class.  They  are  growths 
that  need  sunlight  and  are  not  usually  found 
in  deep  water. 

Still  another  class  of  sea  plants,  Cyanopky- 
cecB,  need  warm  sunlight  and  grow  near  the  sur- 
face. In  fact  many  of  them  grow  on  the  top 
of  the  water  and  are  known  to  us  as  water 


GARDENS  OF  THE  SEA 


183 


blooms,  scums  and  net  weeds.  The  color  is 
blue-green  from  the  presence  of  phycocyan,  but 
this  is  subject  to  some  marked  exceptions.  The 
name  of  the  Eed  Sea  was  given  because  of  the 
presence  upon  the  surface  of  a  red  species  of 
this  class;  and  there  are  other  red  species  that 
appear  in  the  tropic  seas.  Blue-green  is,  how- 
ever, the  predominant  hue  of  the  Cyanophy- 
cecB.  Many  varieties  of  it  that  grow  in  salt 
water  remain  quite  unnoticed  by  us  because  of 
their  diminutive  size.  Some  of  them  even  re- 
quire a  microscope  for  recognition. 

In  deeper  water  yet  still  along  the  beaches, 
clinging  to  cliff  rocks  and  growing  in  stony 
shallows,  are  the  brown  algm  that  belong  to  the 
class  Phceophycece.  There  are  many  orders  in 
this  group  and  some  of  the  forms  are  the 
largest  of  the  sea  weeds.  The  giant  kelp  or 
"  Devil's  Apron "  several  hundred  feet  in 
length,  the  Macrocystis  of  the  Pacific  with  its 
thousand  feet  of  stem,  the  bulky  Lessonia,  the 
sea  palm,  and  the  sea-otter's  cabbage  belong  to 
it ;  and  in  a  different  division  are  the  wrack  that 
shows  on  the  rocks  at  low  tide,  the  Gulf  weed 
that  gathers  in  the  Sargasso  Sea  and  makes 
breeding  places  for  pelagic  or  deep-sea  fishes, 
and  many  small  and  complex  forms  of  rock 
weed.    A  large  number  of  this  group  live  in  the 


Bhie-green 
alga. 


Brown 
algae. 


Kelp  and 

rod:   ivred. 


184 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Red  algce. 


cold  waters  bordering  upon  the  arctic  regions, 
though  some  of  them  are  found  in  the  tropics. 

Further  out  in  the  ocean  and  deeper  down 
than  any  others,  clinging  to  rocks,  banks,  shells, 
wrecks,  even  other  plants,  are  the  red  algce  be- 
longing to  the  class  Rhodophycece  or  Floridece. 
These  are  the  most  beautiful  of  all,  not  only  in 
the  brilliancy  of  their  coloring,  but  in  the  deli- 
cacy of  their  forms  and  patterns.  The  majority 
of  them  are  crimson,  rose,  or  some  other  shade 
of  red  (though  sometimes  showing  purple,  yel- 
low or  violet),  owing  to  the  presence  of  phy- 
coerythrin,  a  pigment  that  outbulks  the  chloro- 
phyll and  gives  the  reddish  tinge.  The  forms 
are  not  large.  Some  have  leaf-like  branches 
and  bear  a  protuberant  fruit  as  tasteless  as  the 
apples  of  the  Dead  Sea  shore;  others  are  saw- 
edged,  rod-like,  feathery,  threaded,  membran- 
ous, cartilaginous.  All  the  corallines  with  bases 
stone-coated  with  lime,  all  the  dulses  with  their 
blood-red  colorings,  all  the  gelatinous  sea- 
mosses  from  which  are  made  Irish  moss,  agar- 
agar,  and  Japanese  isinglass,  belong  here. 

In  addition  to  these  large  divisions  there  are 
many  plants  ungrouped  and  unclassified;  and 
standing  beside  them  along  the  hills  and  val- 
leys of  the  ocean  world  are  organisms  that 
look    vegetable    and    yet    are    animal.      Time 


Dulses  and 
sea  mosses. 


GARDENS   OF  THE   SEA 


185 


was  when  they  were  called  "  flower-animals " 
and  "  animal-plants,"  but  the  terms  are  ob- 
solescent. The  division  line  between  the  flora 
and  the  fauna  of  the  sea  is  not,  however,  too 
finely  drawn,  even  at  the  present  day.  Many 
forms  of  the  fauna  favor  the  flower,  the  shrub, 
the  branch;  and  yet  these  are  but  an  outer 
guise — perhaps  a  disguise  planned  by  nature 
■whereby  the  animal  lures  prey  within  its  reach. 
The  likeness  to  the  plant  in  such  creatures  as 
sea  anemones,  sponges  and  coral  is  curious 
enough;  but  the  real  interest  lies  deeper.  The 
organisms  are  marvels  of  design,  wonders  of 
form  and  color.  The  care  and  wasdom  of  Crea- 
tion are  not  more  marked  in  planet  and  solar 
system  than  in  the  tiny  dwellers  in  the  ocean. 
The  smallest  specimen  of  globigerina  or  for- 
aminifera — too  small  to  be  seen  without  the 
microscope — is  moulded  with  perfectly  radiat- 
ing arms  or  symmetrical  shell,  and  the  sluggish 
form  of  the  jelly  fish  is  cast  in  iris  hues  more 
perfect  because  more  delicate  than  those  of  the 
lily  or  the  burnished  dove.  Indeed,  the  mar- 
vels never  cease  in  "  the  world  below  the  brine." 
The  variety — what  seems  the  infinity — of 
marine  life  is  merely  beginning  to  dawn 
upon  us.  The  discovered  species  mount  into 
the  hundreds  of  thousands.     As  fast  as  they 


'  'Flou'er- 
animala.' 


The  like- 
ness to 
plants 
superficial. 


Marvels  of 
design  and 
color. 


186 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  variety 
of  marine 
life. 


One-celled 
life. 


become  known  they  are  duly  named  and 
classified.  There  are  now  nine  or  ten  large 
branches  with  many  classes  and  sub-classes 
which  serve  as  pigeon  holes  for  the  distribution 
of  all  sea  life.  The  classification  is  accurate 
enough  perhaps  but  ever  subject  to  revision  ow- 
ing to  newly  acquired  information.  The  end 
is  not  yet.  We  are  beyond  Aristotle  and  Pliny, 
beyond  Linnaeus  and  Cuvier;  but  not  beyond 
new  discovery. 

The  simplest  form  of  this  animal  life  in  the 
sea  is  found  in  the  one-celled  Protozoa.  They 
are  mostly  creatures  of  microscopical  size.  The 
body  is  composed  of  protoplasm  and,  in  classes 
like  the  foraminifera,  covered  with  a  cham- 
bered shell,  or  like  the  radiolaria  encased  in 
a  capsule  and  spicules,  or  like  the  amoeba  not 
covered  at  all.  They  move  by  contractions  of 
the  body,  or  lash  themselves  along  with  cilia; 
and  they  absorb  food,  both  animal  and  vege- 
table, by  surrounding  it  or  engulfing  it.  Under 
the  microscope  the  forms  are  remarkable  in  de- 
sign because  infinitely  varied  and  complicated. 
Each  one  of  them  is  modeled  after  its  kind  as 
though  serving  a  special  purpose  in  creation. 
But  most  of  these  minute  organisms,  though 
the  gardens  of  the  sea  are  filled  with  them, 
make  slight  appeal  to  the  shore  wanderer  be- 


Minute 
organisms. 


GARDENS   OF   THE   SEA 


187 


cause  practically  unseen.  At  times  a  stain 
upon  a  rock,  a  discoloration  upon  a  frond  of 
sea  weed,  may  point  to  the  presence  of  some 
stray  colony;  but  usually  not  even  that  much 
sign  is  apparent. 

Not  so  with  the  sponges  of  the  branch  Porif- 
era.  They  are  marked  features  of  the  sea- 
bottom  because  of  their  bulk,  their  wide  dif- 
fusion, and  above  all  their  varied  colors.  Time 
was  when  they  were  considered  plants,  but  they 
are  now  positively  placed  in  the  animal  king- 
dom. They  are  many  celled  and  have  inhalent 
pores  through  which  sea  water  is  drawn,  and 
minute  animal  life  extracted  therefrom.  Their 
forms  are  irregular — a  mere  fibrous  network, 
influenced  as  regards  its  shape  by  circumstances 
and  species.  There  are  several  classes,  in  one 
of  which  the  spicules  are  calcareous,  and  in  an- 
other of  which  they  are  siliceous,  horny,  or 
glassy.  To  the  latter  class  belong  the  glass- 
rope  sponges,  the  Venus  flower  basket  and  the 
Neptune's  cup.  The  sponge  of  commerce  is 
merely  the  dried  skeleton  of  the  animal  with  its 
color  bleached  or  faded  in  process  of  drying. 
Alive  and  fastened  to  the  rocks,  their  forms 
expanded  and  their  tints  showing  in  masses  of 
light  brown,  yellow,  red,  or  brilliant  orange 
they  make  up  a  remarkable  sea-flooring.     And 


Sponges. 


Kinds  and 
colors  of 
sponges. 


188 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Polyps,  sea 
anemones, 
and  corals. 


yet  there  is  intermingled  with  them  life  in 
other  forms  even  more  remarkable,  even  more 
beautiful  in  hue. 

Nothing  in  the  sea  excels  in  delicacy  and  va- 
riety of  color  the  polyps  and  the  jelly  fishes 
belonging  to  the  large  branch,  Coelenterata. 
All  the  tints  that  may  be  wrung  from  the  spec- 
trum are  blended  in  sea  anemones,  coral,  and 
MeduscB.  The  sea  anemone  is  attached  by  a 
stalk  to  a  ledge  or  a  rock,  and  the  polyp  within 
gathers  food  from  the  passing  currents  with 
tentacles  that  seem  ceaselessly  waving,  clasp- 
ing and  unclasping.  They  resemble  flowers 
(asters  in  particular),  though  they  take  many 
forms  and  put  on  patterned  colors  that  are 
astonishing  enough.  Coral  is  produced  by  a 
similar  if  smaller  polyp,  living  in  a  small  cell 
of  limestone  made  from  his  own  secretions. 
The  stony  deposit  is  in  all  colors — orange,  scar- 
let, purple,  green — and  in  all  forms — branched, 
fan-shaped,  sprayed,  arched,  rounded.  When 
the  polyp  dies  he  himself  hardens  into  lime  and 
adds  to  the  structure  he  and  his  kind  have 
reared.  That  structure  in  time  often  becomes 
the  long  coral  reef  or  the  coral  island  of  the 
southern  seas,  with  which  everyone  is  more  or 
less  familiar. 

The  Medusce  or  jelly  fishes  are  not  attached 


Coral 
colorings. 


Coral  reefs 
and  islands. 


GARDENS   OF  THE   SEA 


189 


but  free  floating  members  of  this  branch.  They 
are  usuall}^  bell-shaped  or  mushroom-domed, 
with  tentacles  hanging  down  from  underneath. 
In  the  great  Cyanea  arctica  the  diameter  is 
often  from  three  to  five  feet,  and  the  tentacles 
trailing  down  and  away  behind  are  several  fath- 
oms in  length.  This  species  has  the  power  of 
discharging  from  its  tentacle  cells  the  lasso, 
which  poisons  whatever  it  touches  and  origin- 
ally gave  the  family  the  name  of  "  sea-nettles." 
The  majority  of  the  jelly  fish  are  not,  however, 
so  large  and  are  quite  harmless,  leading  a  drift- 
ing, spineless,  uneventful  existence,  swinging 
with  the  waves  like  a  submerged  soap-bubble, 
and  showing  always  transparent  hues  of  azure, 
saffron,  rose,  and  opal. 

There  are  many  of  the  medusoid  types, 
widely  divergent  in  form  and  color,  and  each 
type  admirably  fitted  for  drifting,  for  assault 
and  defence,  and  for  food  gathering.  The 
Portuguese  man-of-war  that  looks  like  a  deli- 
cate piece  of  Venetian  glass,  and  the  Venus 
girdle  (Cestus)  with  its  winding  silver-and- 
azure  ribbon  of  a  body  are  the  members  of  the 
family  usually  illustrated  in  books  and  set  forth 
as  types;  and  yet  in  every  sea  there  are  hosts 
of  these  transparent  creatures — curled,  ringed, 
belted,    living   necklaces   with   long   pendants, 


Jelly 
fishes. 


Sea-nettles. 


Medusoid 
types. 


190 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Living 
ribbons  and 
necklaces. 


Sea 
urchins. 


Armor  of 
the  sea 
urchins. 


Star  fishes. 


bands  and  borders  with  pale  fringes,  balls  and 
domes  of  blue  with  violet  streamers — quite  as 
beautiful  in  their  way.  All  of  them  are  merely 
jelly  fishes,  cousins  of  the  more  common  unfor- 
tunate that  we  find  stranded  on  the  beach  after 
a  storm. 

On  the  sand  beside  the  jelly  fish  are  often 
found  stray  members  of  the  branch  Echlnoder- 
mata.  The  round  sea  urchin  with  calcareous 
plated  shell,  armed  with  spines,  and  looking 
like  a  chestnut  burr  in  all  save  color,  is  one  of 
the  best  known  of  the  family.  Why  he  should 
be  so  peculiarly  well-defended  with  armor  and 
several  thousand  spines,  is  hard  to  discover. 
To  escape  trouble  he  burrows  and  hides  in  the 
sand,  and  has  even  the  power  of  making  pockets 
in  the  solid  rock,  where  he  lies  protected  from 
the  motion  of  waves  and  the  attacks  of  the 
enemy.  He  moves  about  by  the  aid  of  hia 
spines  and  tentacles,  eats  anything  he  can  find, 
and  seems  proof  against  being  eaten;  but  no 
doubt  he  has  an  enemy  that  circumvents  him 
sooner  or  later. 

Almost  any  pool  or  rock  basin  along  the  coast 
will  contain  the  five-pointed  star  fish  which 
with  the  sea  urchin  is  classed  among  the  echi- 
noderms.  It  has  tentacles  with  sucker  feet 
whereby    it    not    only    clings    and    walks    but 


GARDENS   OF   THE   SEA 


191 


through  which  it  breathes.  And  its  different 
arms  act  like  hands,  enabling  the  animal  to 
pry  open  and  devour  oysters,  clams,  mussels, 
and  other  shell  fish  with  considerable  ease. 
When  it  loses  an  arm  another  is  immediately 
grown  in  its  place;  and,  that  there  shall  be  no 
unnecessary  waste,  the  lost  arm,  if  so  much  as 
one-fifth  of  the  disk  attaches  to  it,  will  grow 
another  body.  Some  of  the  species  have  from 
eight  to  thirty  of  these  rays  or  spoke-like  arms, 
all  of  them  adjusted  with  the  greatest  nicety. 
The  brittle  stars  are  near  relatives  of  the  star 
fishes.  The  basket  fish  (so  called  from  the 
basket-like  appearance  when  the  branched  arms 
are  drawn  in)  is  the  conspicuous  example  in 
the  group.  He  walks  on  the  tiptoes  of  his 
tentacles  and  closes  up  when  touched. 

The  crinoids  are  cup-shaped  or  lily-like  echi- 
noderms.  They  are  anchored  fast  by  a  stalk, 
much  like  an  animal  tethered  to  a  peg  in  the 
ground;  and  they  feed  in  a  circle  about  their 
anchorage.  Some  of  the  family  look  like  a 
star  at  the  end  of  a  fairy's  wand,  but  the  ma- 
jority of  them  are  more  like  a  flower  on  a  tall 
stem.  From  this  resemblance  comes  the  com- 
mon designation  of  "  sea  lilies "  for  the  liv- 
ing species,  and  "  stone  lilies "  for  the  fossil 
forms.     Like  many  another  species  of  echino- 1 


Brittle  stars. 


Sen  lUiet 


Stone  liliet. 


192 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Holothu- 
rians. 


Sen  cu- 
cumbers. 


Shell  fieh. 


dernis  they  drop  their  feathery  tentacles  at 
will  and  apparently  without  any  lasting  injury. 

The  holothurians  go  beyond  the  star  fishes 
in  the  matter  of  dismemberment  for  they  break 
up  into  a  dozen  different  pieces  when  occasion 
requires.  They  have  a  body  somewhat  like  the 
sea  worms,  and  might  be  put  in  the  class  with 
them  were  it  not  for  their  spicules  and  tenta- 
cles. There  is  no  shell,  but  in  its  place  a  tough 
leathery  skin.  A  long  bottle-shape  has  given 
to  one  of  the  group  the  name  of  "  sea  cucum- 
ber," and  sometimes  (but  erroneously)  "  sea 
slug."  When  seen  in  their  habitat,  say  the 
Florida  coast,  their  colors  are  most  attractive. 
In  China  they  are  sought  for  food,  and  when 
prepared  for  the  trade  make  the  well-known 
"  trepang." 

The  molluscs  come  under  the  popular  desig- 
nation of  "  shell  fish "  and  mean  to  the  lay 
mind  primarily  the  oysters  and  clams  of  com- 
merce; but  the  class  is  a  large  one  and  has 
great  variety.  It  embraces  some  twenty  thou- 
sand extinct  species  and  as  many  more  of  the 
living  species.  Every  sea  has  its  quota  and 
every  shore  has  its  shell-lined  beach.  The  shell 
is  perhaps  the  most  interesting  part  of  the  ani- 
mal to  the  casual  observer.  It  is  usually  made 
of  lime,  is  opaque;  and  within  has  a  surface 


GARDENS   OF   THE   SEA 


193 


that  is  glassy,  porcelain-like,  or  pearly.  The 
contours  are  always  graceful ;  and  along  the  in- 
ner walls  the  undulations  of  the  shell  surface 
produce  the  most  beautiful  of  all  opalescent 
hues. 

The  univalves,  as  distinguished  from  the  bi- 
valves, have  the  single  spiral  shell.  The  spiral 
is  made  up  of  mounting  rings  that  usually  turn 
to  the  right.  There  are  many  of  these  gastro- 
pods, but  the  great  rose-colored  stromb,  called 
a  "  conch  "  or  a  "  queen  conch,"  is  the  most 
striking  of  the  types.  In  poetry  and  painting 
it  is  the  "wreathed  horn"  of  Triton;  and  in 
prosaic  every-day  life  aboard  sailing  vessels  it 
is  still  used  as  a  signal-call  and  a  fog  horn. 
The  bivalves  have  two  shells  connected  by  a 
hinge  and  ligament ;  and  that  is  the  weak  point 
their  construction.     The  star  fishes,  drum 


m 


fishes,  drills,  crabs,  oyster  catchers  (not  to 
mention  human  beings)  pry  them  open  and 
destroy  them  by  millions.  Nothing  but  rapid 
breeding  keeps  the  family  from  extinction. 
And  they  are  all  beautiful  in  shell-form  and 
color.  The  pearl  oyster,  the  mussel,  the  scallop, 
the  cockle  do  not  exhaust  the  gamut  of  bivalve 
splendor.  There  are  others  of  the  family,  sel- 
dom seen  perhaps,  that  brought  to  the  surface 
are  glowing  in  cells  of  opal,  topaz,  and  ame- 


Beautrj  of 
the  shell. 


Univalves 
nrtd   bi- 
valves. 


Conches, 

oysters, 

clams. 


Scallops 
and  cockles. 


194 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Cephalo- 
pods. 


The  pearly 
nautilus. 


thystine-purple ;  and  have  lines  that  gracefully 
mimic  sea  waves  in  their  rise  and  fall. 

The  cephalopods  with  their  coiled  shell  have 
many  extinct  species,  and  many  livinp;  that  are 
as  remarkable  for  their  ability  to  change  their 
color  at  will  as  for  the  color  itself ;  but  only  one 
of  the  living  group  has  interest  for  those  who 
are  not  scientists.  This  is  the  pearly  nautilus, 
the  sole  modern  representative  of  the  Tetra- 
branchiates.  It  has  become  familiar  in  almost 
every  household  through  the  poem  of  Dr. 
Holmes,  for  it  is 

"The  ship  of  pearl,  which  poets  feign 
Sails  the  unshadowed  main, 
The  venturous  bark  that  flings 
On  the  sweet  summer  wind  its  purpled  wings." 

Pliny,  centuries  ago,  wrote  of  it  as  stretching 
out  a  "  membrane  of  marvelous  thinness  which 
acts  as  a  sail  spread  out  to  the  wind."  With 
this  sail  it  "makes  its  way  along  the  deep, 
mimicking  the  appearance  of  a  light  Liburnian 
bark,  while  if  anything  chances  to  cause  it 
alarm,  in  an  instant  it  sinks  to  the  bottom." 
Whether  it  sails  the  sea  or  not  is  still  a  mooted 
question ;  but  there  is  no  doubt  about  its  spiral 
shell  with  its  different  compartments  in  which 
the  animal  has  successively  lived,  its  "  irised 


GARDENS   OF   THE   SEA 


195 


ceiling,"  its  "  sunless  crypt,"  and  its  "  shining 
archway." 

In  the  same  family  with  this  romantic  beauty 
of  the  sea  is  another  cephalopod,  a  species  with- 
out a  shell  belonging  to  the  Dibranchiates, 
which  interests  not  for  his  beauty  like  the  nau- 
tilus, but  for  his  repellent  look.  This  is  the 
great  polyp,  the  octopus.  He  is  a  monster  of 
the  deep  and  in  body  is  known  to  be  nine  or  ten 
feet  in  length  by  six  feet  in  breadth,  with  ten- 
tacles thirty  or  forty  feet  in  reach.  He  feeds 
upon  anything  living  and  in  turn  is  fed  upon 
by  the  sperm  whale.  It  is,  indeed,  from  the 
stomach  of  whales  that  evidence  as  to  his  size 
has  been  obtained.  It  is  claimed  by  several 
writers  that  they  have  seen  him  in  the  life,  but 
certainly  the  sight  is  a  very  rare  one.  All  of 
the  tribe  have  ink  bags,  which  they  discharge 
to  cloud  the  water  when  attacked;  and  all  are 
formidable  antagonists  fighting  with  both  tooth 
and  tentacle.  In  spite  of  a  repellent  look, 
which  they  must  possess  judging  from  the 
smaller  specimens  in  the  aquariums,  they  are 
beautifully  patterned  with  the  most  delicately 
blended  rods,  browns,  violets,  and  pinks;  and 
some  of  them  have  gold-rimmed  telescopic  eyes 
as  soft  and  pretty  as  those  of  a  gazelle. 

The  Crustacea  represent  one  of  the  higher 


The 
octopus. 


Size  and 
equipment 
of  the 
octopus. 


196 


THE  OPAL   SEA 


Crabs, 
lobsters  and 
barnacles. 


The  hard 
Khelt.  how 
funned. 


Equipment 
for  defense 
and  attack. 


forms  of  sea  life  and  one  of  the  most  widely 
distributed.  There  are  ten  thousand  living  spe- 
cies in  the  class,  to  be  found  in  almost  every 
sea;  and  they  have  almost  every  proportion 
from  the  microscopic  to  the  gigantic.  All  the 
different  varieties  of  crabs,  lobsters,  craw  fish, 
shrimps,  prawns,  barnacles  and  acorn  shells  be- 
long to  it.  The  general  name,  Crustacea,  comes 
from  the  hard  calcareous  casing  which  every 
member  of  the  family  wears.  It  is  in  kind  a 
jointed  armor,  grown  and  colored  by  the  outer 
skin,  and  cast  off  or  "  shed  "  at  periods  when 
the  wearer  has  become  too  large  for  it.  A  new 
shell  is  speedily  grown  in  its  place,  but  until 
it  is  hardened  the  crustacean  hides  in  sand  or 
rock  or  weed.  The  equipment  for  defense  and 
attack  in  this  class  is  something  extraordinary. 
Their  bodies  are  constructed  for  bending,  twist- 
ing, jumping;  they  have  members  for  swim- 
ming, feet  for  walking,  legs  for  burrowing, 
claws  hooked  and  toothed  for  grasping  and 
tearing,  and  jaws  for  grinding.  In  addition  they 
are  given  antennce  for  touch,  compound  eyes 
for  seeing,  sense  organs  for  smell  and  taste, 
and,  finally,  respiratory  organs  for  either  land 
or  sea. 

With  such  resources  in  attack  and  defense  it 
is   not   surprising  to   find   a  belligerent   spirit. 


GARDENS   OF  THE   SEA 


197 


Fighter! 
arid  killtra 


All  the  members  of  the  large  sub-class,  Mala- 
costraca,  are  carnivorous,  eating  anything  they 
can  find  whether  dead  or  alive.  They  are  the 
true  sea  scavengers;  and  yet  each  crab  in  the 
sea  is  ever  and  always  a  fighter  and  a  killer. 
They  are  no  respecters  of  kind,  killing  and 
eating  their  weaker  brothers  without  the  slight- 
est hesitancy;  and  being  eaten  in  turn  with 
no  great  struggle.  The  calmness  and  ease  with 
which  one  crab  pulls  another  to  pieces  and 
devours  him  seems  quite  unparalleled  among 
the  animals  of  the  land.  And  yet  with  all  the 
savagery  and  ferocity  of  these  cannibals  they 
are  given,  not  hideous  and  repulsive  colors,  but 
delicate  hues  of  red,  reddish-brown,  steel-blue, 
and  yellow. 

And  why  not  beautiful  color  in  the  sea  life? 
If  the  birds  of  the  air  and  the  flowers  of  the 
field  have  it,  why  not  the  creeping  things  of  the 
deep,  and  the  algce  of  the  beaches?  Color  is, 
indeed,  the  sign  of  vitality,  the  symbol  of  life. 
Strength,  exuberance,  endurance  go  with  it; 
and  in  this  respect  the  sea  is  perhaps  beyond 
the  land.  All  its  shallows  are  aglow  with  color. 
On  the  eastern  coast  of  Mexico  the  sea  gardens, 
seen  through  a  water  glass,  look  like  autumn- 
tinged  uplands  in  the  days  of  Indian  summer. 
Submerged   in   a   blue-green   atmosphere,   and 


Color  cf  sea 
hie. 


198 


THE   OPAL  SEA 


In  the 

Mexican 
gulf. 


Seen 

thTOugh  a 
water  glass. 


Tropical 
fishes. 


lighted  by  the  broken  sunbeam  that  falls  not 
straight  but  in  a  curved  line  like  a  spent  rifle 
ball,  the  view  becomes  abnormal,  astonishing, 
bewildering.  For  there  one  sees  great  tangles 
of  olive-purple  fucus  and  laminaria,  lilac  thick- 
ets of  branching  madrepore,  patches  of  "  blood- 
flower"  coral,  beds  of  golden  sponges,  hillsides 
of  crimson-tentacled  anemones,  valleys  fllled 
with  swaying  sea-feathers,  all  sown  broadcast, 
scattered  at  haphazard  in  the  bottom  of  the 
sea.  There  in  every  grotto  and  under  every 
rock  are  scurrying  squids  and  shrimps  and  scar- 
let crabs  with  pearl  oysters  and  "  chambered " 
nautiluses,  star  fish,  sea  lilies,  sea  urchins,  bar- 
nacles, acorn  shells,  boring  annelids,  and  wind- 
ing sea  worms.  And  there,  also,  with  jelly  flsh 
gleaming  in  transparent  opal,  and  chains  of 
salpcB  pearly  with  phosphorescence,  slowly  move 
across  the  meadows  and  around  the  sea  cliffs, 
myriads  of  shore  flshes  modeled  in  a  thousand 
curious  forms  and  decorated  with  gold,  silver, 
and  moss-agate  colorings.  Schools  of  black- 
barred  coral  fishes  (sometimes  called  "  angel 
fishes ")  wind  through  the  clumps  of  madre- 
pore; trigger  fishes  (Ballstes  Carolinensis), 
with  back  fins  that  lock  at  the  will  of  the  pos- 
sessors, wander  aimlessly  over  the  algce;  parrot 
fishes    with    brilliant    glancing    colors    browse 


GARDENS   OF   THE   SEA 


199 


along  the  reefs  of  coral;  file  fishes  with  tawny 
velvet  skins  circle  the  submerged  rocks  looking 
for  barnacles. 

Swifter  moving,  more  alert,  ever  eager  for 
prey  are  the  red  snappers  with  rose-red  scales 
and  blue-outlined  fins,  the  pompanos  traveling 
in  vast  schools  like  their  cousins  the  mackerels, 
the  cabrillas,  with  dark  fins  and  barred  flanks, 
beating  along  the  bottom  for  small  fish  and 
crabs.  And  occasionally  through  these  beauti- 
ful gardens  there  is  a  scattering  in  flight  of  all 
the  smaller  fishes  as  some  lone,  black-muzzled 
porpoise  rushes  across  the  scene  or  thrashes  the 
green  water  into  foam  with  the  eagerness  of 
a  capture.  The  blue  sharks  are  there,  too, 
though  they  spread  less  terror  than  the  por- 
poises. Not  even  the  saw  fish — the  shark-like 
bravo  with  six  feet  of  saw-edged  snout  with 
which,  it  is  said,  he  fights  the  whale — is  so  fear- 
compelling  as  the  plunging,  swift-traveling  por- 
poise. 

There  is  more  or  less  terror  in  these  sea  gar- 
dens at  all  times.  The  chase  and  sudden  death 
are  constant  happenings,  for  practically  all  the 
ocean  dwellers  are  carnivorous.  Each  one  kills 
and  eats  and  in  turn  is  killed  and  eaten.  The  sea 
lives  upon  itself,  consuming  and  is  consumed. 
It  might  be  thought  that  such  self-destruction 


Red 

snappers 
and  pom- 
panos. 


Sharks  and 
porpoises. 


The  chase 
arul  the 
death. 


200 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Changes  in 
the  sea  life. 


could  result  only  in  extinction,  annihilation. 
But  no;  the  sea  and  its  life  have  not  declined 
in  any  way.  Again,  one  might  think  from  the 
enormous  reproductive  capacity  of  the  ocean 
broods,  from  the  millions  of  eggs  of  each  her- 
ring, lobster,  and  oyster,  that  the  sea  would 
overflow  with  swarming  hordes.  But  no;  it 
has  not  gained  or  increased.  Has  it  changed  in 
any  way  since  the  foundations  of  the  earth 
were  laid  down?  Apparently  not.  The  Cam- 
brian, Ordovician,  and  Silurian  rocks  give  tes- 
timony that  many  a  deep  sea  group  has  not 
varied  the  slightest,  has  not  evolved  a  scale  or 
a  joint  in,  let  us  say,  millions  of  years.  Such 
forms  of  life  as  the  actinozoa,  the  brachiopods, 
the  gastropods,  the  pteropods,  the  Crustacea  are 
the  same  to-day  as  in  the  earliest  ages;  and  it 
is  a  fair  inference  that  the  medusce,  the  holo- 
thurians  and  other  life  not  found  in  fossil  form, 
because  without  shells,  existed  also  in  the  Cam- 
brian epoch. 

This  is  quite  in  accord  with  nature's  most 
obvious  design.  She  is  determined  to  maintain 
the  status  quo — the  existing  order  of  things. 
All  her  efforts  are  directed  to  that  end.  The 
sea  itself  is  in  a  continual  state  of  transition, 
and  yet  it  remains  the  same.  It  changes  by  cur- 
rent, tide,  and  evaporation,  changes  by  tempera- 


Testimony 
of  the  rocks. 


GARDENS   OF   THE   SEA 


201 


ture  and  density,  changes  by  life  and  death; 
and  all  that  there  may  be  no  change.  It  de- 
stroys that  it  may  live,  while  apparently  living 
only  that  it  may  destroy.  Every  part  of  it  is 
volatilized,  undergoes  disintegration,  seemingly 
passes  away ;  and  yet  the  whole  endures,  retain- 
ing its  eternal  youth  and  its  eternal  beauty. 


I 


Nature 
maintain- 
ing  the 
existing 
order. 


CHAPTER   X 


DWELLERS  IN  THE   DEEP 


Marine 
life  in  the 
great 
depths. 


The  beautiful  sea  gardens  of  the  Bermudas 
or  the  Bahamas,  the  upland  meadows  of  the 
bench  and  the  shallow,  are  not  the  only  places 
where  marine  life  flourishes.  It  was  thought 
for  many  centuries  that  there  was  no  other  sea 
world  than  this,  long  believed  that  nothing 
could  live  out  of  the  sunlight;  and  that  the 
great  depths  were  cold,  barren,  lifeless  spaces. 
We  calmly  assumed  that  beyond  our  vision  there 
could  be  nothing — a  conclusion  quite  worthy  of 
the  King  of  Dahomey.  But  happily  the  dredg- 
ings  of  the  Challenger  have  corrected  us. 
There  is  life  of  many  kinds  in  the  great  depths, 
and  in  abundance.  Twenty  thousand  sea 
urchins  brought  up  at  one  haul  of  the  dredge 
would  seem  to  suggest  as  much. 

And  are  we  quite  right  in  still  believing  that 
there  is  no  light  in  the  ocean  depths?  Sun- 
light we  feel  reasonably  sure  is  dissipated  and 
lost  in  a  hundred  or  more  fathoms  of  water; 
but  is  there  no  other  light?     The  dwellers  in 

202 


DWELLERS   IN   THE  DEEP 


203 


the  depths  have  eyes — highly  organized  and 
very  sensitive  eyes — and  it  is  not  believable  that 
nature  made  them  without  purpose.  That  is 
quite  contrary  to  her  practice.  And  she  some- 
times eliminates  a  member  if  unused.  The 
stream-fish  in  the  waters  of  the  Mammoth  Cave 
are  blind,  became  blind  by  being  plunged  in 
continual  darkness;  but  not  so  the  majority  of 
fish  that  live  in  the  deep  sea.  From  which  it 
would  seem  that  the  dwellers  in  the  ocean 
depths  have  eyes  that  are  in  continual  use — 
eyes  that  are  perhaps  adapted  to  another  kind 
of  light  than  sunlight. 

It  is  explained  by  naturalists  that  there  is 
phosphorescence  or  luminescence  in  the  depths, 
that  the  fishes  themselves  possess  it  and  flash 
it  at  will,  and  that  their  eyes  are  adapted  to  it. 
Very  likely  they  can  see  by  it  to  some  extent; 
but  is  that  the  only  light,  is  that  sufficient  to 
account  for  the  marvellous  telescopic  e3^es  of 
some  of  the  octopuses  ?  We  may  be  wrong  about 
sunlight  not  penetrating  to  the  great  depths, 
never  reaching  beyond  a  hundred  or  more  fath- 
oms of  water.  We  keep  thinking  of  our  sun- 
light, of  the  yellow,  red  and  blue  rays  that  make 
up  white  sunlight ;  but  what  of  the  far  end  of 
the  spectrum — the  X  rays  that  were  discov- 
ered only  a  few  years  ago  ?    The  dark  ray  pene- 


The  prob- 
lem  of 
light. 


How  do  the 
bottom 
dwellers 
aeef 


Phosphor- 
escence and 
lumiriea- 
cence. 


204 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  violet 
rays. 


Other 

liphts  in 
the  depths. 


Liphtinp 
power,  of 
lumines- 
cence- 


trates  opaque  substances  and  travels  where  the 
ordinary  sunlight  is  turned  back,  reflected.  Is 
it  not  possible  that  this  same  ray  may  reach 
through  sea  water  to  the  lowest  depths?  And 
is  it  not  further  possible  that  the  great  watch- 
crystal  eyes  of,  say,  the  lantern  fishes  were  es- 
pecially constructed  to  receive  just  that  beam? 
Besides  there  may  be  still  other  lights — more 
lights  than  we  have  dreamt  of  in  our  philosophy 
— down  there  under  the  wave.  The  sperm 
whale  that  sees  so  indifferently  upon  the  sur- 
face, goes  down  to  the  depths  in  his  search  for 
the  octopus.  By  what  light  does  he  see  his 
prey?  Or  does  he  scent  the  strong  musk  of  the 
octopus  and  guide  his  course  by  that  alone?* 

As  for  the  phosphorescence  or  luminescence 
with  which  many  of  the  deep  sea  fishes  are  en- 
dowed, there  is  little  known  about  either  its 
extent  or  its  use.  It  may  have  no  more  illu- 
minating power  in  the  sea  than  a  candle  in  a 
cave.  And  as  a  candle  is  used  by  a  human  being 
to  prowl  about  with  in  the  night,  so  the  lumi- 
nescence of  the  fish  may  be  only  an  individual 
light  that  enables  its  possessor  to  go  in  and 
out  of  dark  places.    It  is  assumed  by  naturalists 

*  Mr.  Charles  H.  Townsend,  the  director  of  the  New 
York  Aquarium,  tells  tae  it  is  doubtful  if  whales  ever 
descend  to  very  great  depths. 


DWELLERS   IN   THE   DEEP 


205 


that  the  lamp-like  contrivances  at  the  end  of 
the  antcnnce  in  some  fishes  (notably  the  angler- 
fishes)  are  to  enable  the  fish  to  see  or  dazzle 
prey;  but  it  may  be  only  a  nervous  manifesta- 
tion indicative  of  fear,  a  defensive  expedient  to 
frighten  enemies,  or  possibly  an  allurement  for 
the  opposite  sex.  The  numerous  hordes  of 
small  creatures  that  float  on  the  sea  surface 
and  are  known  as  "plankton"  emit  light,  like 
the  fireflies  in  the  grass ;  but  the  reason  for  the 
luminescence  at  either  the  sea  surface  or  the 
sea  bottom  is  not  easily  determined. 

It  seems  that  many  of  the  polyps,  medusce, 
annelids,  echinodcrms,  molluscs  and  crusta- 
ceans have  luminous  species;  and  that  among 
the  bottom  dwellers  the  lantern  fishes  are  espe- 
cially provided  for  in  the  matter  of  luminous 
glands  in  the  head  or  tail,  or  perhaps  in  regular 
spots  or  photophores  along  the  sides  of  the 
body.  Others  of  the  species  have  lights  near 
the  e3'es,  and  others  again  have  an  electric  light, 
as  it  were,  suspended  from  a  thin  wire-like 
bracket  projecting  from  the  top  of  the  head. 
All  of  these  fishes  are  grotesque,  somewhat  dis- 
torted specimens,  being  heavy  of  head  and 
small  of  body,  with  exaggerated  eyes,  large 
mouths,  and  fang-like  teeth.  The  bodies  have 
not   the  graceful   proportions   of   the   surface 


Plankton. 


Lantern 
fishes  uith 
photo- 
phores. 


Grotesque 
quality  of 
deep  sea 
fishes. 


206 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Oceania 
pressure. 


lU  effect 
on  fishes. 


fishes.  Some  species  look  telescoped  (Argyro- 
pelecus),  some  are  drawTi  out  like  lizards  {Syn- 
odus  fcetens),  some  have  an  enormous  back  fin 
like  the  lancet  fish  {Alepisaurus  ferox).  The 
great  majority  of  them  seem  abnormal  in  de- 
velopment. And  that  may  be  due  to  the  pe- 
culiar circumstance  of  oceanic  density. 

Living  twenty  thousand  feet  under  the  sea 
the  bottom  fishes  are,  of  course,  subject  to  great 
pressure.  The  estimate  has  been  made  of  one 
ton  to  tlie  square  inch  for  each  one  thousand 
fathoms.  This,  in  the  great  depths,  would 
mean  four  or  five  tons  to  the  square  inch ;  and, 
while  such  pressure  is  equalized  by  being  felt 
on  all  sides,  it  is  not  possible  to  conceive  of  a 
fish  enduring  it  unless  peculiarly  and  specially 
constructed  for  it.  A  bottle  of  champagne  sent 
dovm  a  thousand  fathoms  may  come  up  intact, 
cork  and  all;  but  the  wine  will  be  brackish. 
The  pressure  will  drive  the  sea  water  through 
the  cork.  Multiply  this  pressure  by  five  and 
what  surface  fish  could  withstand  it?  But  the 
bottom  dwellers  have  few  bones.  There  is  too 
much  carbonic-acid  gas  down  there  to  tolerate 
an  extensive  bony  structure.  The  scales  are 
thin,  the  skins  velvety,  the  bodies  cartilaginous, 
transparent,  so  soft  and  pliable  that  they  are 
perhaps  porous.    They  do  not  resist  the  squeeze 


DWELLERS   IN   THE   DEEP 


207 


but  jdeld  to  it  like  jell}^  fishes.  Yet  for  all  the 
weight  of  water  there  is  sufficient  stability  of 
structure  to  maintain  distinct  types;  and  in 
spite  of  it  the  sperm  whale,  with  his  great  bulk, 
goes  down  into  the  sea  and  comes  back  again 
to  the  surface  none  the  worse  for  wear.  The 
bottom  dweller,  however,  does  not  usually  fare 
so  well  as  the  whale  when  he  comes  to  the 
surface.  With  the  pressure  removed  from  him 
he  becomes  very  limp,  wanting  in  fibre,  quite 
formless;  and  soon  dies  as  a  man  might  die 
who  is  transported  six  or  eight  miles  skyward 
in  a  balloon. 

All  the  deep  sea  fishes  are  enormous  eaters. 
There  being  nothing  to  eat  but  the  life  about 
them  they  live  upon  each  other.  Every  facility 
for  killing  and  devouring  is  provided — lumi- 
nescence to  dazzle,  swiftness  and  strength  to 
overtake  and  overpower,  knife-blade  teeth  for 
tearing,  abnormally  large  jaws  for  crushing. 
Whatever  the  prey,  or  however  large  it  may  be, 
there  is  little  trouble  in  swallowing  it.  The 
mouth  yawns  like  a  cavern  and  the  stomach 
distends  to  hold  a  body  even  larger  than  the 
swallower. 

For  defence  or  escape  from  pursuit  these 
fishes  have  little  more  than  the  gloom  of  their 
abode,  the  mud  into  which  some  of  them  bur- 


Peculiar 
disiyn  of 
the  deep 
sea  fishes. 


Their 

voracious 

appelilcs. 


<•» 


08 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Etjuipment 
fcr  defense 
and  flight. 


The  dismal 
extstence. 


Coloring  of 

hnffoni 

jlshcs 


row  and  hide,  and  an  inconspicuous  back  color- 
ing to  disguise  them.  The  crabs  and  sea 
urchins  are  defended  somewhat  by  thin  shells 
and  spines,  the  octopus  by  tentacles  and  ink- 
bag,  the  medusce  by  poison;  while  some  of  the 
others  are  given  power  in  flight,  or  breed  to 
brave  destruction.  Just  how  they  manage  to 
exist  and  keep  their  numbers  is  something  not 
well  understood  as  yet.  In  fact  the  whole  life 
down  there  seems  somewhat  dark,  distorted, 
and  dismal.  But  perhaps  we  are  not  the  best 
judges  of  it.  It  has  been  said  that  to  un- 
derstand how  an  octopus  feels  about  existence 
and  happiness  one  would  have  to  become  an 
octopus. 

And  it  may  well  be  that  there  is  some  loveli- 
ness in  the  imder-world  of  the  violet  sunbeam. 
For  many  of  the  dwellers  there  have  great 
beauty  of  color.  The  gloom  of  the  waters  has 
not  given  them  a  pallor  or  deathlike  hue,  though 
a  number  of  them  have  black  or  gray  colorings 
or  are  black-backed  and  silver-scaled.  There 
are  red,  pink,  lilac,  even  bright  green  fishes, 
and  fishes  with  scales  of  gold,  topaz,  and  silver, 
living  in  the  depths.  All  the  crustaceans  are 
as  brightly  hued  in  one  water  as  another,  the 
jelly  fish  are  violet  and  opal,  the  sea  cucumbers 
purple  and  green,  the  corals  and  sponges  al- 


DWELLERS   IN   THE   DEEP 


209 


most  any  or  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow.  In 
fact  the  bottom  of  the  sea  is  not  so  very  dif- 
ferent from  the  shallows  as  we  have  imagined. 
It  has  its  peculiar  conditions  of  light,  tempera- 
ture, and  pressure,  and  in  it  have  been  placed 
a  fauna,  and  possibly  a  flora,  of  especial  fitness 
to  meet  those  conditions;  but  otherwise  it  is 
substantially  the  same  water  and  life  as  else- 
where. 

The  true  ocean  rovers  are,  however,  the  sur- 
face fishes  that  travel  in  schools;  and  these  are 
perhaps  more  rapacious,  more  destructive,  than 
their  brethren  in  the  pit.  No  doubt  all  the 
life  in  the  sea  is  plagued  with  a  morbid  hunger. 
The  appetite  in  fishes  seems  never  wanting; 
and  complete  digestion  with  some  of  them  is 
only  a  matter  of  half  an  hour.  Hence  the 
slaughter  that  goes  on  unendingly.  It  is  su- 
perinduced by  hunger;  and  yet  it  is  said  that 
the  blucfish,  even  when  gorged,  still  kills  for 
the  pure  love  of  killing.  If  so  he  is  an  excep- 
tion. Nature  sometimes  produces  a  monstros- 
ity, but  with  the  majority  of  her  creatures  she 
enables  them  to  kill  only  that  they  may  eat 
and  live. 

But  whatever  the  motive,  whether  for  food 
or  for  frolic,  these  roving  schools  of  fishes  are 
certainly  proficient  in  the  fine  art  of  murder. 


Peculiar 
conditions 
in  the  sea 
beds. 


Surface 
fishes. 


The  blue- 
fish 


210 


THE  OPAL  SEA 


Herrings 
and  por- 
poises. 


Hfenhaden 
and  their 
destruction. 


They  follow  the  prey  like  packs  of  wolves;  and 
in  turn  are  followed,  band  succeeding  band,  in- 
creasing in  size  as  they  decrease  in  numbers. 
The  herrings  eat  the  smaller  fish,  even  their  own 
young,  they  are  harried  by  the  bluefishes  until 
a  trail  of  blood  stains  the  water,  while  follow- 
ing the  bluefishes  come  the  insatiate  porpoises. 
Nothing  saves  the  weaker  ones  but  breed. 
Many  thousands  of  eggs  are  spawned  that  a 
dozen  or  more  may  be  hatched  and  brought  to 
maturity.  Billions  are  lost;  yes,  but  millions 
survive.  The  herrings  move  on  the  sea  in  un- 
countable numbers,  in  banks  that  are  miles  in 
length  and  width,  in  windrows  so  vast  that 
they  perhaps  keep  passing  one  given  point  in 
unbroken  succession  for  months  at  a  time. 
Just  so  with  the  menhaden.  A  catch  in  a 
purse-net  of  half  a  million  is  not  infrequent. 
Such  numbers  are  sufficient  to  withstand  all 
the  ravages  of  the  natural  enemy.  The  bass, 
the  haddock,  and  the  pollock  may  kill  to  their 
heart's  content,  and  still  the  menhaden  will 
hold  their  own.  They  cannot,  however,  with- 
stand the  great  destroyer — man.  When  whole 
shoals  of  them  are  caught  at  one  fell  swoop 
and  dumped  into  the  hold  of  a  vessel  to  be  tried 
out  for  oil,  nothing  but  destruction  to  the  spe- 
cies can  result.     That,  however,  does  not  seem 


DWELLERS   IN  THE   DEEP 


211 


to  worry  mankind  any  more  than  his  prototype 
in  slaughter,  the  bluefish.  They  neither  of  them 
cease  from  killing  until  there  is  nothing  left 
to  kill. 

With  the  mackerels  it  is  breed,  again,  that 
saves  them  from  extinction.  A  single  female 
will  give  forth  at  one  spawning  upward  of  two 
hundred  thousand  eggs.  With  such  fecundity 
it  is  something  of  a  wonder  how  the  species  is 
kept  within  limits.  It  has,  indeed,  been  gravely 
estimated  that  were  all  the  mackerel  eggs  that 
are  spawned  brought  to  maturity  the  whole  sea 
in  a  short  time  would  be  a  solid  mass  of  im- 
movable fish.  But  the  mackerel  has  many  ene- 
mies and  his  ranks  are  slashed  by  almost  every 
fish  in  the  sea.  He  travels,  with  millions  of 
his  companions,  in  schools;  and  seeks  by  flight 
and  dodging  to  escape  the  enemy.  A  very  beau- 
tiful sight  it  is  to  see  them  wheeling  with  a 
swift  flash  of  their  silver  sides  in  the  sunlight, 
sheering  off  from  an  attacking  band.  But  usu- 
ally the  feint  avails  little.  The  sea  wolves  take 
toll  and  blood  flows;  but  the  mackerels,  veering 
and  tacking,  losing  on  the  flanks  and  rear  but 
ever  closing  up  the  broken  lines,  keep  mov- 
ing on. 

The  flying  flsh  is  a  food  fish,  too,  but  not  so 
plentiful  as  the  herring  or  the  mackerel.     His 


The 
mackerelt. 


Movement 
of  the 
school. 


212 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  Hying 
fish. 


numbers  are  depleted  by  many  destroyers,  and 
besides  he  has  an  ugly  habit  of  feeding  upon 
his  own  kind.  Cannibalism  is  not  infrequent 
among  all  the  sea  fishes.  And  still,  that  the 
flying  fish  should  not  become  extinct,  nature 
provided  for  him  a  better  expedient  ttan  the 
mackerel's  attempt  to  hide  in  the  multitude  of 
the  school.  She  gave  him  abnormally  long  pec- 
toral fins  that  act  as  wings  wherewith  he  flies 
or  sails  through  the  air.  There  is  still  some 
question  about  the  exact  manner  of  the  flight. 
Seen  at  a  distance,  the  fish  seems  to  throw  him- 
self out  of  the  water  with  a  screw-like  churn 
twist    of    his    powerful    tail;    and    once 


How  he 

flie». 


Vibration 
and  tailing. 


or 

launched  in  the  air  to  sail  rather  than  to  fly. 
The  flight  is  maintained  not  usually  for  more 
than  one  or  two  hundred  yards,  and  yet  fre- 
quently so  far  as  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  In  the 
air  the  fish  seems  to  be  somewhat  wooden  and 
apparently  holds  his  body  rigid,  riding  the 
breeze  like  a  clay  pigeon.  When,  however,  he 
rises  from  under  the  fore  foot  of  a  ship,  and 
one  looks  down  upon  him  as  he  rises,  the  thin 
wing-like  fins  are  seen  to  vibrate  and  to  fan  the 
air  almost  as  swiftly  as  the  wings  of  a  hum- 
ming bird.  Whether  the  vibration  is  momen- 
tary or  long-continued  is  difficult  to  determine; 
but  it  would  seem  that  the  wings  propel  the  fish 


DWELLERS   IN   THE   DEEP 


213 


for  a  short  distance,  at  least,  as  well  as  catch 
the  wind  like  a  flattened  sail. 

This  flight  of  the  flying  fish  often  serves  him 
in  good  stead,  but  it  does  not  invariably  fur- 
nish a  safe  exit  from  danger.  The  albicore  or 
tunny  travels  as  fast  under  the  water  as  the 
fish  in  the  air.  Let  the  flier  turn  at  a  sharp 
angle  and  the  albicore  does  likewise.  The  chase 
is  thus  often  long-continued.  The  wings  of  the 
flier  become  weary.  Perhaps  he  dips  into  the 
sea,  striking  his  tail  first,  or  plunges  through 
the  crest  of  a  wave  head  first,  for  a  second,  and 
then  is  once  more  in  the  air.  The  contact  with 
the  water  seems  to  renew  his  strength;  and 
yet  he  wearies  the  second  time  sooner  than  the 
first.  At  last,  after  many  descents  and  flights, 
perhaps  the  albicore  leaps  from  the  water  and 
the  remorseless  jaw  closes  upon  the  exhausted 
flier  in  mid-air. 

In  addition  to  albicores,  dolphins,  bonitos, 
porpoises — all  kinds  of  ocean  racers — the  flying 
fish  has  also  enemies  in  the  air.  When  his  pur- 
suers in  the  sea  force  him  from  the  water,  the 
birds  of  prey  hawk  at  him  from  above.  Be- 
tween them  both  he  is  often  sadly  beset,  and 
yet  strangely  enough  his  numbers  do  not  seem 
to  decrease.  He  holds  his  own  in  spite  of  ad- 
versities. 


Chased  hy 
the  albicore. 


The 
capture. 


Bird 

enimies  of 
the  jli/ing 
fish. 


214 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  cory- 
phene. 


Swiftness 
of  the 
porpoise. 


Speed  and 
power  of 
the  sea 
rovers. 


The  surface  fishes,  both  those  that  flee  and 
those  that  follow,  are  all  agile  enough.  The 
twist  and  turn  of  the  coryphene  (popularly  but 
erroneously  called  a  "dolphin"),  the  speed  of 
the  albicore,  the  sharp  gyration  of  the  mackerel 
or  the  herring,  the  flight  of  the  flying  fish  are  the 
mere  commonplaces  of  sea  life.  Even  the  lum- 
bering, somewhat-stupid  shark,  who  is  more  of 
a  scavenger  than  a  killer,  will  sometimes  dart 
upward  with  the  greatest  swiftness,  beheading 
a  fish  with  a  single  snap  as  cleanly  as  a  guillo- 
tine might  do  it.  And  as  for  the  porpoises 
(properly  dolphins)  they  are  the  embodiment 
of  easy  strength  as  they  bowl  along  the  surface 
like  a  string  of  hurdle  jumpers,  rising  and 
plunging  in  perfect  curves.  They  seem  to  move 
slowly  and  yet  nothing  in  the  sea  moves  swifter. 
They  can  run  ahead  of  a  fast-traveling  steamer, 
and  have  little  trouble  in  outrunning  the  waves 
upon  the  surface,  which  indicates  a  speed  of, 
say,  thirty  miles  an  hour  at  least. 

All  of  the  sea  rovers  are  constructed  for 
speed.  They  are  long,  thin  fish,  large  at  the 
shoulder,  and  tapering  away  toward  the  tail. 
They  have  scales  as  smooth  as  mother-of-pearl, 
or  skins  like  velvet  that  slip  through  the  water 
with  the  least  possible  friction.  The  ease  with 
which  they  glide  when  at  play,  the  arrow-like 


DWELLERS   IN   THE   DEEP 


215 


swiftness  with  which  they  rush  forward  when 
frightened  or  chasing,  are  indicative  of  tremen- 
dous strength  in  proportion  to  size.  Those  who 
have  caught  tuna  at  Catalina,  or  tarpon  along 
the  Florida  coast,  or  harpooned  sword-fish  off 
Block  Island,  have  some  idea  of  how  great  is 
that  strength.  A  strong-swimming  man,  weigh- 
ing, say,  one  hundred  and  eighty  pounds,  can 
be  "  played "  and  dragged  ashore  from  the 
sea  with  less  tackle,  less  effort,  and  less  time 
than  a  ten-pound  sea  bass.  To  be  sure  the 
fish  has  the  advantage  of  being  in  his  ele- 
ment; but  how  very  well  fitted  he  is  to  that 
element ! 

And  how  easily  the  tarpon  twists  and  turns, 
plunges  down  the  side  of  a  reef,  runs  along  a 
deep  sea  trough,  or  perhaps  in  play  comes  rush- 
ing to  the  surface  and  leaps  ten  feet  into  the 
air,  completing  a  half-circle  of  blazing  silver! 
The  Californian  tunas  when  following  flying 
fish  often  strike  and  catch  the  prey  in  mid-air, 
returning  to  the  water,  head  first,  in  the  most 
graceful  arches  imagina])le.  And  again  the 
porpoises.  As  they  travel  across  the  seas  in 
schools  they  clear  the  water  in  their  plungings 
and  no  more;  but  they  are  capaljle  of  taking  a 
high  jump  with  the  best  of  the  jumpers,  and 
when  surrounded  and  frightened  they  leap  over 


Fitness  to 
the  element. 


Tarpons 
and  tunas. 


Jumpinn 
purpoisea. 


216 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Coloring  of 

school 

fishes. 


Protective 
colorings. 


Changeable 
colorings. 


a  boat  and  crew  almost  as  readily  as  over  the 
line  of  a  net. 

The  school  fishes  are  by  no  means  of  uniform 
coloring,  and  yet  in  a  general  way  they  are  al- 
most all  of  them  alike  in  being  blue-green  or 
olive-colored  on  the  backs,  silvery  on  the  sides, 
and  whitish  on  the  bellies.  It  has  been  said 
that  this  coloring  was  given  them  for  conceal- 
ment and  protection.  The  bird  looking  down 
upon  them  from  above  sees  only  the  shading 
of  their  backs  into  the  dark  of  the  water;  the 
shark  looking  up  from  beneath  sees  their  light 
bellies  and  sides  blending  with  the  light  coming 
from  above.  For  a  similar  reason  perhaps  the 
flounder  flattened  in  the  sand  was  given  a  back 
that  matches  the  sand  as  exactly  as  a  tree  toad's 
skin  the  branch  he  is  resting  upon.  This  gift 
of  adaptation  of  color  would  seem  something 
more  than  accident  or  coincidence.  Many  fish 
in  the  sea  have  tones  and  shades  that  conceal, 
and,  what  is  more  remarkable,  many  have  the 
power  of  changing  their  colorings  at  will.  This 
has  been  long  known,  and  recently  quite  con- 
clusively proven,  in  the  aquariums.  Changing 
the  backgrounds  of  the  tanks  has  resulted  in 
many  fishes  changing  their  hues  to  correspond. 

But   whatever  the  color,  or   for  whatsoever 
purpose  given,  it  is  generally  beautiful  color. 


DWELLERS   IN  THE   DEEP 


217 


Sometimes  a  fish  is  not  marked  or  barred  or 
hued  in  an  interesting  way  as,  for  instance,  the 
gra3'ish-black  and  dirty-white  of  the  shark  or 
the  dull  lead-colors  of  the  pollock;  l)ut  the 
school  fishes,  though  they  are  brought  forth  in 
millions,  have  all  of  them  tints  of  loveliness. 
What,  for  example,  could  be  more  superb  in 
color  than  the  back  of  the  common  mackerel ! 
The  green  of  the  peacock's  neck  is  not  so  bril- 
liant nor  the  blue  of  the  sea  itself  so  intense. 
The  silvery  sides  of  the  tarpon,  made  up  of 
scales  that  are  like  thin  plates  of  pearl,  what 
again  can  equal  them  in  lustre !  And  has  there 
ever  been  known  a  more  beautiful  fish  than  the 
rarely-seen  coryphene !  He  is  a  wonderwork  of 
blue  and  gold,  flashing  in  the  sunlight  with 
opalescent  colorings,  and  under  shadow  chang- 
ing into  shades  of  silver.  This  is  the  so-called 
"  dolphin  "  that  poets  have  chosen  to  picture  as 
growing  more  beautiful  in  coloring  as  he  dies; 
but  there  is  more  poetry  than  truth  in  the  fig- 
ure. The  fish  changes  hue,  true  enough,  but 
he  is  never  so  beautiful  as  when  alive  in  the 
water  chasing  the  flying  fish,  his  long  dorsal 
fin  of  gold  gleaming  like  an  arrow  of  light  on 
his  blue-green  back. 

There  are  other  inhabitants  of  the  sea,  wan- 
derers that  travel  about  the  poles  or  around  the 


Coloring  of 
the  mack- 
erel 


Beauty  of 
the  cory- 
phene 


218 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


equatorial  belt,  and  yet  are  not  fishes  at  all. 
The  whales,  for  instance,  are  popularly  consid- 
ered as  fishes  whereas  they  are  warm-blooded 
mammals.  This  is  true  of  the  porpoises,  the 
grampuses,  the  narwhals,  the  killers,  the  black 
fishes.  They  are  all  cetaceans  and  live  not  in 
the  depths  but  on  the  surface.  In  form  they 
resemble  the  fislies,  and  have  the  fishes'  tail 
wherewith  they  propel  themselves;  moreover, 
they  are  gregarious,  traveling  in  schools  for 
great  distances,  following  the  chase  like  the 
other  sea  rovers.  But  they  are  mammals,  never- 
theless. The  whales  are  of  many  kinds  and  in 
popular  nomenclature  are  right  whales,  blue, 
white,  and  gray  whales,  bowheads,  hump-backs, 
fin-backs,  sulphur-bottoms.  The  larger  ones 
are  toothless  and  live  upon  tiny  crustaceans, 
molluscs  and  jelly  fish;  others  have  rows  of 
teeth  and  feed  upon  squid,  herring  and  mack- 
erel. 

Taking  them  for  all  in  all  the  cetaceans  are 
not  a  picturesque  group.  They  are  wonderfully 
equipped  for  the  consumption  of  small  sea  life 
en  masse  (one  rorqual  perhaps  swallowing  thou- 
sands of  herring  at  a  single  gulp)  and  have 
great  adaptability  to  circumstance ;  but  in  form 
they  are  odd,  though  not  clumsy,  and  in  color 
they   are   dull,   sometimes   quite   dismally   so. 


DWELLERS   IN   THE   DEEP 


219 


They  have  no  scales  to  reflect  opalescence  like 
the  fishes  but  in  their  place  a  blackish  or  dirty- 
white  skin  that  is  interesting  only  for  the  ease 
with  which  it  slips  through  the  water.  The 
larger  members  of  the  family  are  not  often  seen 
along  the  steamer  lanes  of  to-day.  Occasionally 
a  black  back  will  heave  up  at  a  distance^  look- 
ing somewhat  like  an  enormous  water-soaked 
log,  and  a  spout  of  moisture-laden  breath  will 
go  up  from  it;  but  the  sight  is  an  unusual  one. 

For  the  whales  have  their  enemies  and  the 
tribe  has  not  increased.  The  sword  fish,  un- 
abashed by  bulk,  is  said  to  drive  headlong  into 
the  blubber  of  the  great  Mysticetus  and  killers 
{Orca  gladiator)  in  bands  tear  him  with  their 
teeth  almost  as  easily  as  a  hermit  crab  disposes 
of  a  collapsed  oyster.  Almost  ever3i;hing  in  the 
sea  has  an  enemy,  and  from  high  to  low  there 
is  fierce  struggle  for  life.  Only  a  very  few  of 
the  ocean  rovers  escape. 

The  turtle  is  one  of  the  few.  He  seems  to  go 
his  way  in  peace,  moving  slowly,  never  in  a 
hurry,  eating  what  he  can  get,  and  seeming  to 
have  neither  friend  nor  foe.  On  sea  or  land, 
in  the  depths  or  on  the  surface,  he  is  always 
at  home.  His  breathing  apparatus  is  peculiar 
in  its  large  expanse  of  lung,  and  he  exists  read- 
ily in  either  air  or  water.    Sometimes  for  many 


Scarcity  of 
whales. 


Enemies  of 
the  whale. 


The  sea 
turtle. 


220 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Habits  of 
the  turtle. 


The  seals. 


hours  he  lies  half-buried  in  the  bottom  mud, 
or  floats  sleepily  on  the  surface  with  a  round 
circle  of  back  projecting  above  water,  his  head 
and  flippers  hanging  down  listlessly.  Then  for 
days  he  suns  himself  on  the  sandy  beach  of 
some  sea  island  and  becomes  quite  a  land  lub- 
ber. He  is  a  famous  swimmer  making  long 
journeys  with  ease,  he  can  go  for  weeks  with- 
out food  of  any  sort;  and  he  is  sheathed  in  an 
armour  that  none  of  his  sea  fellows  can  break, 
and  none,  except  possibly  the  sperm  whale,  at- 
tempts to  swallow  unbroken.  By  his  equip- 
ment, his  frugalit}^  and  his  singular  vitality 
he  is  famously  fitted  for  endurance.  And  yet 
perhaps  not  more  so  than  another  ocean  waif — 
the  seal. 

The  fur  seal  of  the  Alaska  coast  and  north- 
ward is  the  type  though  there  are  many  species 
of  the  tribe — sea  lions,  sea  leopards,  and  sea 
bears,  with  harp  seals,  ringed  seals,  saddle-back 
seals,  bearded  seals,  ribbon  seals,  hooded  seals. 
The  ordinary  fur  seal  is  perhaps  the  best  swim- 
mer in  the  ocean.  In  strength  and  in  swiftness 
he  seems  quite  unparalleled.  He  travels  almost 
as  fast  as  a  porpoise,  and  yet  strange  enough 
when  born  he  cannot  swim  at  all.  Mr.  Bullen 
has  it  that  his  mother  takes  him  into  the  water 
and   teaches  him  his  first  strokes.     If  so  he 


DWELLERS   IN   THE   DEEP 


221 


proves  an  apt  pupil  and  when,  after  several 
months,  he  leaves  the  rookery  on  the  seal  island 
where  he  was  born,  he  sets  out  for  the  open 
sea  quite  alone  and  quite  undismayed.  There 
he  cruises,  hunts,  plays,  eats,  sleeps — a  true 
ocean  wanderer.  His  fur  and  his  fat  keep  him 
from  any  chill,  and  his  tremendous  agility  and 
swiftness  keep  him  supplied  with  squid  and 
fish.  His  appetite  is  something  phenomenal — 
in  captivity  fifty  or  more  pounds  of  fish  being 
required  daily  by  a  single  seal.  After  gorg- 
ing himself  he  goes  to  sleep  floating  on  his 
back  with  flippers  folded,  his  head  bobbing  up 
and  down  upon  the  waves,  as  peacefully  as  upon 
a  bed  of  roses.  There  occasional!}^  a  shark  finds 
him  and  bites  him  through  and  through  or  a 
killer  whale  swallows  him  whole;  but  usually 
he  is  safe  in  the  sea.  It  is  only  when  he  returns 
to  the  islands  to  breed  that  his  great  enemy — 
man — makes  havoc  among  his  numbers.  Not 
his  flesh  but  his  coat  is  wanted.  With  the  ex- 
ception of  the  pearl  oyster  he  is  about  the  only 
dweller  in  the  ocean  that  is  killed  for  his 
beauty. 

All  the  life  of  the  sea,  beautiful  or  otherwise, 
destroys  and  is  destroyed.  Again  comes  up  that 
seeming  contradiction  of  purpose,  that  seeming 
paradox  of  life  and  death  both  being  necessary 


Birth    and 
growth  of 
the  fur  seal. 


Killed  for 
his  coat. 


222 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


All  (he  tea 
life,  ts 
destroyed. 


Endurance 
of  the  type. 


What  lies 
beyond. 


parts  of  a  plan.  And  once  again  the  apparent 
inconsistency  of  beauty  being  given  to  creatures 
that  are  sent  to  destruction  by  the  millions. 
Why  the  effort  since  it  is  to  be  so  soon  nullified  ? 
Why  the  beauty  since  it  must  so  soon  perish? 
Is  there  naught  coming  out  of  sea  travail  that 
shall  live  and  be  glad  forever? 

Ah  yes !  the  species  endures,  the  type  con- 
tinues though  the  individual  is  lost.  It  is  the 
come  and  go  of  countless  individuals,  each  one 
having  its  day  and  passing  on,  that  preserves 
the  type,  keeps  the  species  active,  virile,  youth- 
ful, beautiful.  The  sea  renews  itself  by  change 
in  every  part.  Life  and  death  are  but  the  pro- 
cesses of  renewal.  The  units  matter  not,  though 
they  are  not  given  over  wholly  to  misery. 
There  is  a  joy  in  life,  an  exaltation  in  being 
and  living.  The  very  struggle  to  maintain  life 
proves  it.  There  may  be  an  even  greater  joy 
in  death.  Who  shall  say  what  lies  beyond, 
what  rests  in  store,  for  the  humble  dweller  in 
the  deep?  The  eye  of  gold,  the  scale  of  pearl, 
may  appear  again  in  newer  splendor;  the  ex- 
uberant life  may  be  renewed  with  even  greater 
vitality.    Who  shall  say? 


CHAPTER   XI 


GRAY  WINGS 


The  sea  wherein  life  first  began  is  still  the 
supporter  of  life.  It  feeds  its  own,  sustains 
itself,  and  yet  always  has  something  left  over 
for  the  dwellers  upon  the  land.  Sooner  or  later 
all  of  nature's  children  return  to  it,  as  desert 
animals  troop  by  night  to  a  pool  in  the  waste. 
It  is  the  source  and  from  it  directly  or  indi- 
rectly comes  the  food  and  drink  that  supply 
the  world.  In  its  depths  in  unthinkable  num- 
bers are  the  ever-hungry  fishes,  along  its  coasts 
are  the  rapacious  herds  of  seal  and  otter,  and 
by  its  shores  are  the  eagles  gathered  together — 
the  birds  of  prey  that  follow  the  sea  chase  and 
are  always  in  at  the  death. 

If  possible  the  bird  is  a  little  more  voracious 
than  the  fish.  The  ordinary  linnet  or  thrush 
of  the  garden  is  glutton  enough  in  his  absorp- 
tion of  insect  life ;  but  he  has  no  such  boundless 
appetite  as  the  gull  or  the  gannet.  The  sea 
birds  seem  impossible  to  satisfy.  The  brown 
pelican  wheels   for   hours   above   a  school  of 

223 


The  sea.  as 
the  source 
of  all. 


Voracity  of 
sea  birds. 


224 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  peli- 
cans. 


The 
plunger. 


Cormorants, 

shags, 

diveri. 


fishes,  plunging  head  first  with  shut  wings 
every  few  minutes,  his  huge  bill  snapping  up 
luckless  victims  with  great  certainty.  Once 
caught  perhaps  the  fish  is  not  instantly  lifted 
out  of  water,  but  is  manoeuvred  until  he  is 
quietly  slipped  into  the  large  distensible  pouch 
under  the  lower  mandible.  Then  the  head  is 
tossed  backward  and  the  fish  glides  down  the 
long  throat.  This  performance  may  go  on  from 
dawn  to  dusk  with  few  interruptions;  and  the 
next  day  the  pursuit  be  taken  up  with  renewed 
ardor.  Success  does  not  seem  to  weary  him  in 
the  least.  All  the  appliances  to  make  fishing 
easy  and  profitable  are  freely  bestowed  by  na- 
ture as  though  the  pelican  were  a  favored  crea- 
tion. The  bill  is  not  only  sharp  and  hooked  at 
the  end,  but  is  rough-edged  so  that  no  slippery 
specimen  can  wriggle  out  of  it,  the  body  is  as 
tough  as  leather  to  withstand  the  blow  upon  the 
water  in  continuous  plunging  from  above,  the 
head  and  neck  are  muscled  to  the  la!st  degree 
that  the  bill  may  move  swiftly  and  unerringly. 
The  whole  machine  works  perfectly. 

Always  where  the  pelicans  and  gannets 
gather,  perched  along  the  shore  and  on  the 
rocks,  are  hordes  of  cormorants,  shags,  divers — 
birds  quite  as  clever  in  chasing  fish  under  water 
as  the  pelican  is  in  catching  them  from  above. 


GRAY    WINGS 


225 


From  the  rocks  they  keep  slipping  into  the  sea 
every  few  minutes  and  dipping  out  of  sight. 
They  move  slowly  enough  when  swimming  on 
the  surface;  but  once  under  water  their  heads 
and  necks  stretch  forward,  their  bodies  seem  to 
draw  out  behind,  and,  propelled  by  foot  and 
wing,  they  move  with  the  ease,  the  swiftness, 
and  the  directness  of  submarine  boats.  The 
small  fish  cannot  travel  so  fast  nor  can  they 
by  darting  or  turning  elude  pursuit.  The  shag 
usually  comes  to  the  surface  with  a  squirmer  in 
his  file-edged  bill,  and  if  the  fish  is  not  con- 
veniently caught  for  swallowing,  it  is  tossed 
in  the  air  and  caught  anew  by  the  beak  of  the 
skillful  fisherman. 

The  penguin  is  said  to  be  even  more  greedy 
than  the  shag — in  fact  a  winged  seal  both  in 
capacity  for  destruction  and  in  general  appear- 
ance. The  bird's  wings  are,  indeed,  little  more 
than  flippers,  members  almost  useless  in  the 
air;  but  once  under  water  they  become  famous 
paddles  that  propel  with  alternate  strokes  at  a 
great  speed  while  the  feet  are  used  only  as  a 
rudder.  The  penguin  spends  most  of  its  time 
at  sea,  in  the  winds  and  the  waves  of  the  Ant- 
arctic circle,  and  is  a  deep  sea  diver  of  no  mean 
ability.  The  auks,  guillemots  and  puffins  have 
similar  habits  and  not  dissimilar  appearances. 


Chnsivp 
fish   u  nder 
water. 


The 
penguin. 


Auks  and 
puffins. 


226 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Long- 
legged 
waders. 


Flamin- 
goes. 


And  they  all  live  by  the  sea  and  follow  the 
fisher's  calling. 

Beside  these  plungers  and  paddlers,  there 
are  long-legged  waders  that  are  continually  pa- 
trolling the  beaches  or  crossing  the  inlets  or 
standing  silently  in  the  bays  waiting  for  fish 
to  pass.  They  have  great  curved  necks  that 
seem  to  draw  out  like  telescopes,  and  bayonet 
bills  that  thrust,  catch,  and  toss  in  the  most 
expert  manner.  With  appetites  that  relish  al- 
most everything,  and  crops  that  can  digest 
almost  anything,  they  allow  little  to  pass  un- 
scathed along  their  highways.  Whatever  lives 
on  or  by  the  sea  is  grist  for  their  mill.  The 
beautiful  rose-red  flamingo,  with  the  misshapen 
beak  that  would  seem  to  handicap  him  in  pur- 
suit of  prey,  is  one  of  the  ablest  of  these  hunt- 
ers. The  beak  is  little  more  than  a  box,  the 
edges  of  which  are  guarded  by  lameUce,  and 
the  food  (composed  of  the  smaller  salt  water 
snails)  is  sifted  through  the  box  in  a  not  very 
different  manner  from  that  in  which  the  ba- 
Iffinid  whale  strains  sea  life  through  his  whale- 
bone mesh.  He  wades  the  marshes,  works  with 
his  head  and  bill  "upside  down,"  so  that  the 
upper  mandible  shovels  through  the  bottom 
mud ;  and  though  ungainly  he  is  far  from  being 
ill-fed. 


GRAY   WINGS 


227 


The  scarlet  ibis  of  the  tropics  and  the  black- 
and-white  ibis  of  Egj^pt,  though  not  classed 
with  the  flamingoes,  have  similar  habits  if  not 
similar  equipments.  By  the  Egyptians  the  ibis 
was  held  sacred  because  of  its  purity,  and 
by  the  Hebrews  it  was  thought  "unclean"; 
but  at  the  present  day  neither  belief  ob- 
tains, and  many  of  the  irreverent  or  unthink- 
ing eat  the  bird  for  a  stork  as  opportunity 
offers. 

The  storks  often  travel  far  inland  and  yet 
are  also  found  along  the  coast.  Like  the  herons 
and  bitterns  they  are  eaters  of  the  small  fry 
of  the  sea,  waders  of  the  pools  and  marshes, 
people  of  long  necks,  legs,  and  bills.  They  are 
somewhat  awkward  as  they  move  along  the 
shore,  and  not  too  graceful  when  they  fly;  but 
they  are  not  wanting  in  skillful  handling  of  the 
neck  and  the  bill.  With  them  moving  up  and 
down  the  coasts  at  stated  seasons  in  great  Y- 
shaped  flocks  are  the  cranes,  perhaps  the  largest 
of  all  the  waders.  They,  too,  often  go  far  in- 
land; but  with  the  storks  and  the  herons  they 
are  essentially  water  birds  and  consider  the 
shore  their  habitat.  There  they  feed  and  there 
at  odd  seasons  they  indulge  in  strange  dances, 
processions  and  races — antics  more  astonishing 
than   a   ^loqui   snake  dance — accompanied   by 


The  scarlet 

ibis. 


Storks 


Dancing 
cranes. 


228 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Share  birds. 


Tnrn- 

S/o/ti'S 

s  I  nd 
pipers. 


arui 


cries  and  apparent  comments  to  be  understood 
only  by  tbe  crane  family. 

"With  the  larger  waders  that  flock  by  the  sea 
and  live  upon  the  spawn  of  the  waters  are 
countless  small  birds  with  slim  legs  that  trip 
along  the  beaches,  running  here  and  there  over 
the  wet  sand,  gathering  what  the  last  wave 
has  brought  in.  They  are  usually  called 
"  snipe  "  by  the  unscientific,  and  "  shore  birds  " 
by  the  inclusive;  and  true  enough  there  are 
snipe  among  them.  The  stilts,  the  yellow-legs, 
and  the  willets  might  come  into  that  category, 
but  hardly  the  plovers  and  the  curlews.  But 
they  are  all  more  or  less  native  to  the  shore  and 
feed  upon  its  lesser  shell  fish  and  worms.  This 
is  true  of  the  still  smaller  birds,  the  turnstones 
that  get  their  name  from  turning  over  stones 
in  search  of  minute  life,  and  the  many  varieties 
of  sand  pipers.  The  latter  travel  in  flocks  of 
from  ten  to  twenty  and  spend  their  days  scam- 
pering along  the  beaches.  They  are  very  alert, 
very  energetic,  very  graceful;  and  their  little 
thin  legs  move  so  fast  at  times  that,  like  the 
spokes  of  a  fast-traveling  wheel,  they  cannot 
be  seen.  Ever  the  large  eye  and  the  large  bill 
are  seeking  food.  That  seems  the  constant 
quest  of  all  life  in  or  by  the  sea. 

Sometimes  a  small  flock  of  these  sand  pipers, 


GRAY    WINGS 


229 


moving  about  on  the  wing  in  a  fog,  loses  its 
shore  line  and  drifts  out  to  sea.  It  is  not  an 
unusual  sight  to  see  a  half  dozen  of  them  five 
hundred  miles  from  the  coast,  skimming  along 
the  surface,  wheeling  at  sharp  angles,  and  flash- 
ing the  white  of  their  under  wing-feathers  in 
the  sun.  When  so  seen  they  fly  very  rapidly, 
veer  very  often,  and  shift  their  course  capri- 
ciously. It  is  always  quite  evident  that  they 
are  lost,  that  they  are  beating  about  the  waters 
as  homing  pigeons  circle  in  the  upper  air  when 
trying  to  orient  themselves.  Shipwrecked  sail- 
ors in  an  open  boat  are  hardly  more  helpless 
or  more  frightened. 

Even  more  terror-stricken  are  the  small  land 
birds  like  the  finches  and  warblers  that  singly 
or  in  pairs  are  sometimes  seen  far  out  on  the 
ocean.  By  some  error  in  night  travel  or  by 
reason  of  fog  or  driving  storm  they  lose  their 
bearings  and  quickly  get  out  of  sight  of  land. 
When  a  ship  with  its  masts  is  sighted  they  turn 
to  it,  no  doubt,  as  to  a  tree  in  the  desert;  and 
no  noise  or  attempts  at  capture  will  drive  them 
away  for  more  than  a  few  minutes.  They  re- 
turn and  cling  wearily  to  the  shrouds  or  ride 
on  the  cross-trees  sitting  in  a  ruffled  and  hud- 
dled heap  with  all  jauntiness  gone,  and  all  song 
reduced  to  a  saddened  "  cheep  !  " 


Sand 
pipers 
lost  at  tea. 


Finches 
anil 

wnrblers  in 
the  shroitds. 


230 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Land  birds 
at  sea  quite 
helpless. 


Equipment 
i/f  the 
true  sea 
wanderer. 


But  the  finches  and  warblers  were  never  de- 
signed for  the  watery  waste.  Even  the  snipes 
and  the  sand  pipers,  with  the  whole  tribe  of 
beach  and  shore  birds,  were  given  no  more  than 
a  limited  equipment  for  ocean  travel.  They 
belong  to  the  land.  That  is,  they  skirt  the 
coast,  beat  along  the  breakers,  perhaps  cruise 
out  to  sea  for  a  day;  but  they  go  back  to  the 
shore  at  night.  They  weary  when  the  sun  goes 
down,  and  like  Noah's  dove  keep  returning  to 
what  they  regard  as  home.  They  must  have 
a  resting  place  for  the  sole  of  the  foot. 

Nature  when  she  planned  the  bird  life  of  the 
open  sea  builded  better  than  that.  Above  all 
she  planned  for  endurance — endurance  of  cold, 
wind,  storm,  hunger.  And  she  eliminated  the 
homing  instinct  and  made  many  of  the  wave 
wanderers  for  solitude.  Domesticity  on  the 
land  for  a  few  weeks  was  given  them  only  for 
breeding  purposes.  For  the  rest  of  the  time 
they  were  destined  to  be  the  true  ocean  waifs, 
traveling  alone  hither  and  yon,  always  songless 
and  sometimes  voiceless,  with  eyes  seldom  clos- 
ing in  sleep,  and  with  wings  seldom  folding  in 
rest. 

The  make-up  of  the  sea  bird  is,  indeed,  re- 
markable and  yet  not  extraordinary.  It  is  no 
more  than  the  expected;  and  is  only  another 


GRAY   WINGS 


231 


Musclinq 
and  feather- 
ing ofiisea 
birds. 


illustration  of  nature's  fashioning  things  to  an 
end  and  for  a  purpose.  The  body  is  usually 
very  small — little  more  than  a  rack  of  bones 
and  a  wedge  of  sinews.  An  oily  quality  of  the 
flesh,  derived  from  a  fish  diet,  and  an  outer 
layer  of  fat  provide  heat  and  enable  the  bird 
to  live  in  the  coldest  climates.  In  addition 
there  is  a  thick  but  light  plumage  that  not  only 
wards  off  cold  and  wet  but  adds  to  the  buoyancy 
of  the  bird  in  the  air  as  in  the  water.  The 
muscling,  in  proportion  to  size,  is  prodigious. 
The  wing  muscles,  for  instance,  are  developed 
to  the  last  degree  of  elasticity,  pliability  and 
flexibility.  It  seems  as  though  nothing  could 
weary  them.  And  the  task  imposed  upon  them 
is  more  than  herculean.  The  bird  spends 
whole  days,  and  even  whole  weeks,  upon  the 
wing,  darting,  soaring,  wheeling,  diving.  The 
enormous  wings  with  their  motor  of  muscles 


Their 

enormous 

endurance. 


behind  them  always  seem  sufficient  unto  every 
emergency  or  requirement.  They  not  only  up- 
hold the  body  for  days  at  a  time  but  they  ride 
the  breeze  or  gale,  they  tack,  sail  free,  or  dead 
ahead,  as  the  bird  wills;  and  with  apparently 
as  little  effort  as  thistle  down  drifting  with  the 
wind. 

Many  of  these  ocean  birds  are  gray-winged 
and  gray-backed,  though  not  all  of  them.    The 


232 


THE  OPAL   SEA 


Gray  color- 
ing of  sea 
birds. 


Terns. 


Gulls  and 
their  flight. 


gulls,  terns  and  frigate  birds  are  white  or  black 
or  mixed;  but  the  shearwaters,  cape  pigeons 
and  petrels  are  gray-hued,  sooty  or  blackish 
gray.  Few,  indeed,  of  the  true  sea  birds  have 
bright  colors.  The  rose-hued  tern  is  about  the 
gayest  of  them  all ;  and  even  he  prefers  to  do  his 
fishing  in  sight  of  the  land,  though  by  instinct 
and  equipment  he  belongs  to  the  sea.  All  the 
tern  family  are  graceful  birds  in  flight,  dart- 
ing, skimming,  twisting  in  a  way  that  has 
brought  them  the  colloquial  name  of  "  sea- 
swallows."  In  color  the  majority  of  them  are 
gray  on  the  back  and  white  on  the  breast.  They 
have  a  red  foot,  a  sharp  red  bill,  and  a  forked 
tail  which  rather  marks  them  apart  from  the 
gulls,  though  in  reality  they  are  closely  allied 
to  the  gull  family.  The  shore  with  its  schools 
of  small  fish  is  their  hunting  ground  though 
sometimes  a  piece  of  wreck  far  out  at  sea  or  a 
scrap  of  drifting  wood  will  have  a  group  of 
them  occupying  it. 

The  gulls  like  the  terns  usually  have  white 
feathering  below  with  gray  backs;  but  the  dif- 
ferent species  vary  the  monotony  with  whites 
and  blacks.  By  virtue  of  long  pointed  wings 
they  are  extremely  graceful  in  darting,  plung- 
ing, and  twisting,  if  somewhat  heavy  and  awk- 
ward in  straight-away  flying.     They  are,  how- 


GRAY  WINGS 


233 


ever,  strong  of  wing  and  small  of  body  and  can 
stand  the  all-day  flight  without  fatigue.  Some- 
times they  are  seen  following  ships  long  dis- 
tances from  the  shore — following  by  day  and 
disappearing  at  night,  probably  to  rest  on  the 
water — but  usually  they  prefer  the  confines  of 
the  shore.  In  the  company  of  the  shore  birds 
they  ply  the  trade  of  highwayman  or  sneak- 
thief,  robbing  other  birds  of  their  catch,  and 
plundering  each  other  whenever  possible.  Every 
pelican,  for  instance,  generally  has  a  gull  com- 
panion who  sticks  to  him  closer  than  a  brother, 
and  filches  what  he  can  from  the  pelican's 
quarry.  When  they  must  they  take  to  small 
fishing,  but  they  much  prefer  playing  the  scav- 
enger or  the  thief.  Yet  the  gull  is  a  handsome 
bird  in  spite  of  his  habits;  and  he  is  not  to  be 
despised  as  a  sailer. 

A  more  famous  sailer,  however,  is  the  frigate 
bird.  With  the  gulls  he  likes  the  region  along 
shore;  but  he  hunts  out  to  sea  long  distances, 
and  travels  with  less  expenditure  of  energy  than 
any  member  of  the  feathered  tribe.  It  is  im- 
possible to  imagine  anything  more  graceful 
upon  the  wing  than  this  bird.  Along  the  Mexi- 
can coasts,  as  far  south  as  Panama,  he  is  fre- 
quently seen,  at  times  perhaps  a  thousand  feet 
above  the  earth,  standing  still  like  a  box  kite 


How  guilt 
live 


The  frignt? 
bad. 


234 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  won- 
derful 
Sillier. 


with  no  apparent  wing  motion;  at  other  times 
he  drifts  or  circles  like  the  condor  but  with  in- 
finitely lighter  wing;  and,  still  at  other  times, 
when  in  pursuit  of  prey,  he  rises,  falls,  darts 
or  follows  like  an  arrow  shot  from  a  cedar  bow. 
Xo  matter  where  sits  the  wind  or  how  strong 
it  blows  the  expanded  wings  seem  to  gather  it 
and  convert  it  instantly  into  power.  The  wings 
are  the  things.  Tremendously  long  they  are 
(about  six  feet  from  tip  to  tip)  for  a  bird  no 
larger  than  a  crow.  The  tail — the  long  forked 
tail  that  opens  and  shuts  as  the  bird  wills — 
seems  to  be  a  necessary  steering  gear  to  such  an 
expanse  of  sail.  And  he  is  a  veritable  Captain 
Kidd  "  as  he  sails,  as  he  sails,"  a  coast  pirate 
flying  the  black  flag  (for  there  is  not  a  white 
feather  about  him),  and  plundering  whatever 
crosses  his  track.  He  is  no  fisherman  so  far  as 
plunging  or  diving  goes,  he  hates  contact  with 
the  water  and  is  seldom  seen  in  it;  but  he  is  a 
keen  watcher  of  the  boobies,  gulls,  and  terns, 
and  when  they  have  made  a  capture  he  does 
the  best  he  can  to  take  it  away  from  them. 
And  he  usually  succeeds  for  he  is  feared  by 
all  the  coast  tribe.  It  is  said,  too,  that  he 
plunders  the  nests  of  other  birds,  devours  the 
young,  and  occasionally  eats  small  turtles. 
When  driven  out  to  sea  by  himger  he  does  a 


A   sea 

pirate. 


GRAY   WINGS 


235 


Frigate 
bird 

catchinq 
flying  ftsh. 


curious  kind  of  fishing  among  the  flying  fishes. 
He  is  the  bird  that  follows  the  school  and 
pounces  upon  the  flier  when  he  leaves  the  water 
to  avoid  the  jaw  of  the  albicore.  The  swoop 
down  of  the  bird  and  the  dash  upward,  with- 
out touching  the  water,  is  a  wonderful  sight. 
The  eagle  and  the  hawk  sometimes  chase  a  wild 
duck  from  the  sky  to  the  water's  brim,  return- 
ing skyM'ard  on  a  swift  parabola;  but  it  is  no 
such  black  thunder-bolt  performance  as  the 
frigate  bird  exhibits. 

All  told  the  frigate  bird  has  a  bad  reputa- 
tion, though  why  he  should  be  pilloried  more 
than  the  other  sea  birds  one  is  at  loss  to  say. 
All  birds  are  thieves,  cut-throats,  and  murder- 
ers. That  is  their  way  of  getting  a  living.  The 
frigate  bird  is  simply  better  endowed  than  the 
others,  and  instead  of  doing  the  catching  or 
dragging  do\vn,  he  prefers  to  rob  the  catcher. 
Certainly  he  is  admirably  fitted  for  piracy. 
And  though  he  does  no  week-long  flights  upon 
the  water  he  is  in  make-up  well  fitted  for  the 
open  ocean.  The  large  untiring  wing,  the 
buoyant  feathers,  the  spare  body,  the  lonely  dis- 
position (for  he  is  seldom  seen  in  company, 
though  he  has  been  tamed  and  used  as  a  mes- 
sage bearer  between  the  islands  in  the  Low 
Archipelago)    were  given  him   that  he  might 


Frigate 
bird's  bad 
reputation. 


ffis  fitnets 
for  long 
flight*. 


236 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  wan- 

dennfj 

albatross. 


Flifjht 
feathers  of 
the  alba- 
trots. 


travel  the  sea.  Perhaps  the  only  reasons  why 
he  is  not  seen  there  oftener  are  the  scarcity  of 
birds  to  fish  for  him,  and  his  love  of  a  rocky 
height  rather  than  an  uneasy  wave  for  a  rest- 
ing place. 

In  this  respect  the  albatross  is  perhaps  a 
more  perfect  example  of  fitness  to  an  environ- 
ment. He  is  always  a  deep  sea  wanderer,  is 
more  at  home  in  storm  and  wave  and  cold  than 
in  calm;  and,  by  instinct  rather  than  prefer- 
ence, comes  to  land  only  for  a  brief  breeding 
period.  He  is  much  larger  than  the  frigate  bird 
and  not  so  trim  and  shapely  in  form;  but  his 
expanse  of  wing  enables  him  to  handle  himself 
in  a  really  marvellous  manner.  Eising  from 
the  water  he  flaps  his  wings  awkwardly  like  a 
gull  or  a  pelican;  but  once  launched  he  wheels 
or  turns  or  follows  with  scarcely  a  motion  of 
body,  wing  or  tail.  The  wings  are  long  and 
narrow,  containing  a  greater  number  of  flight 
feathers  than  those  of  any  other  bird,  and  cer- 
tainly in  flight  they  carry  the  albatross  with 
wonderful  ease.  He  follows  a  ship  for  days  at 
a  time  (dropping  away  at  night  and  returning 
in  the  morning)  with  never  a  motion  of  the 
wing,  let  the  ship  tack  or  sail  free  as  it  will. 
Only  when  there  is  a  hasty  descent  for  refuse 
cast  overboard  is  there  any  perceptible  wing  ac- 


GRAY   WINGS 


237 


tion.  Storms,  squalls,  head  winds  do  not  have 
the  slightest  effect  upon  him.  Commander 
Wilkes  speaks  of  him  as  "  resting  as  it  were  im- 
movable in  the  storm,"  and  many  other  ob- 
servers offer  similar  statements.  The  flight  is 
the  perfection  of  aerial  navigation. 

The  wandering  albatross  (Diomedea  exul- 
ans)  is  rarely  found  north  of  the  equator.  He 
is  devoted  to  the  cold  and  storms  of  the  Antarc- 
tic, and,  if  he  is  led  toward  the  equator,  it  is 
only  in  pursuit  of  food.  Like  the  gull  he  is  a 
scavenger  first  and  always,  a  sea  vulture  eat- 
ing refuse.  He  follows  ships  for  that  purpose, 
has  a  nose  like  a  buzzard,  and  either  sees  or 
scents  ocean  carrion,  such  as  a  dead  whale,  at 
very  long  distances.  His  habits  hardly  make 
him  a  romantic  bird,  and  yet  he  is  beloved  by 
the  sailor,  and  has  been  made  the  subject  of 
numerous  poetic  eulogies.  And  deservedly  so. 
For  he  is  a  thing  of  beauty  upon  the  wing  as 
he  rides  the  wind  beside  the  traveling  ship,  and 
in  the  lonely  portions  of  the  ocean  where  he  is 
seen,  his  white  presence  is  always  a  welcome 
variety  in  the  sea  circle. 

Some  of  the  open-sea  birds,  whose  doings  are 
not  so  well  known  as  those  of  the  albatross,  are 
said  to  be  "strange"  or  "mysterious";  but 
the  strangeness  lies  not  so  much  with  the  birds 


His  snilinij 
qualities. 


Where  and 
how  the 
albatross 
lives. 


The  tropic 
bird. 


238 


THE   OPAL  SEA 


as  with  our  ignorance.  The  tropic  bird  is  one 
of  the  suspects.  He  has  a  long  narrow  wing 
like  that  of  the  albatross  and  as  a  sailer  can 
point  dead  in  the  eye  of  the  wind  with  as  little 
effort  as  any  inhabitant  of  the  air.  As  for  his 
steering  gear  it  is  composed  of  only  two  long 
tail-feathers;  but  these  seem  sufficient  to  con- 
trol the  wide  wings  and  work  wonders  in  tack- 
ing, pitching,  and  angle  darting.  He  travels 
alone,  follows  the  ship,  and  at  such  distances 
from  the  shore  as  to  preclude  all  possibility  of 


His  steer- 
ing gear. 


Cnpe 
piiipons 
nn.i  whale 
birds. 


his  returning  to  land  to  rest.  No  doubt  when 
weary  he  rests  upon  the  waters  like  the  alba- 
tross. 

Smaller  than  the  tropic  birds  and  with  Just 
as  little  knowm  about  them,  are  the  cape  pigeons 
of  the  Southern  Ocean;  and,  if  possible,  still 
rarer  as  a  sight  are  the  whale  birds  that  occa- 
sionally gather  about  sea  carrion  or  ocean  dere- 
licts. The  shearwaters  that  skim  the  surface 
like  a  skipping  stone,  belong  to  the  same  family 
of  ocean  travelers;  and  are  seen  swiftly  wheel- 
ing, bounding,  veering  along  almost  every  sea. 
They  are  powerful  of  wing  and  like  the  whale 
birds  seem  always  in  the  air.  Indeed,  it  is  said 
of  the  latter  that  though  always  over  the  sea 
they  never  touch  it.  But  they  have  tlio  web- 
foot  and  no  doubt  that  foot  knows  its  element. 


GRAY    WINGS 


239 


The  sailors'  tale  of  sea  birds  never  alight- 
ing in  the  water  is  perhaps  truer,  compara- 
tively, of  the  petrel — Wilson's  petrel  (Oceanitcs 
oceanicus) — than  any  other.  If  there  is  a  wing 
that  never  tires,  that  is  capable  of  motion  in- 
definitely, week  in  and  week  out,  it  is  that  of 
the  petrel.  The  idea  is  not  so  impossible,  not 
so  fantastic,  as  seems  at  first  blush.  The  hu- 
man heart  beats  without  a  pause  for  seventy 
years;  why  not  the  petrel's  wing  for,  say,  sev- 
enty hours  ?  It  all  depends  upon  the  muscling. 
Everyone  knows  the  stout  fibre  of  the  heart 
and  why  it  does  not  grow  weary;  and  yet  the 
petrel's  wing-and-breast  muscles  are  even  more 
powerful  after  their  kind.  Just  so  with  his 
brother,  the  stormy  petrel  {Procellaria  pela- 
gica) ,  the  bird  known  to  sailors  as  "  Mother 
Carey's  Chicken,"  The  "chicken"  is,  in  size, 
no  larger  than  a  robin — the  very  smallest  of  all 
the  web-footed  birds.  In  color  he  is  as  gray- 
black  or  sooty  as  a  chimney  swallow,  even  to 
his  legs,  with  the  exception  of  some  white  on 
the  wings  and  near  the  tail.  He  is  seldom  if 
ever  seen  resting  on  the  sea,  nor  does  he  rest 
or  sail  upon  the  wing  like  the  albatross.  On 
the  contrary,  the  wings  are  always  moving,  and 
the  flight  is  never  straight-away,  but  twisting, 
turning,  gyrating.    Again  he  is  never  seen  higli 


Wilson's 
petrel. 


The  stormy 
petrel. 


240 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  flight 
of  the 
petrel 


The  un- 
resting 
wing. 


Self  reli- 
ance of  the 
petrel. 


up  in  the  air,  but  usually  a  few  inches  above 
the  water ;  and  as  he  ilies  his  long  blackish  legs 
hang  down  and  his  web  feet  seem  to  pat  the 
surface  of  the  storm  waves  with  the  lightest 
possible  touch. 

With  such  a  flight  he  goes  for  days  and 
nights  (for  aught  we  know  for  weeks  and 
months)  up  and  down  the  waves,  darting 
through  the  troughs,  slipping  along  smooth 
hollows,  paddling  up  the  sides  of  water  wedges, 
mounting  over  drives  of  spray,  delighting  in 
wind  and  rain;  and  never  quite  so  much  at 
home  as  when  the  spindrift  is  flying.  He 
does  not  stop  to  alight,  even  when  he  finds 
food;  but  keeps  a  beating  wing  and  a  dancing 
foot  above  it  until  the  little  hooked  bill  se- 
cures it.  Then  on  and  on  again,  knowing  no 
resting  place,  knowing  no  home,  now  Ijy  the 
icebergs  of  the  Antarctic,  now  with  the  storm 
waves  of  the  Atlantic,  as  fearless  of  loneliness 
as  of  tempests,  traveling  where  no  other  life  is 
seen — the  bravest,  freest,  most  self-reliant  bird 
ever  known  to  man. 

The  gray-black  wing  of  the  stormy  petrel 
has  not  solved  the  problem  of  perpetual  mo- 
tion; but  it  has  suggested  once  again  how  hap- 
pily nature  fits  her  creatures  to  their  home  and 
arms  them  for  their  special  needs.     What  a 


GRAY   WINGS 


241 


life  for  a  bird,  condemned  to  solitude  and  storm 
and  strife,  marked  for  an  unresting  wanderer 
up  and  down 

"  the  fearful  hollows  of  the  barren  sea! ' 

And  yet,  as  with  the  octopus,  are  we  quite  sure 
that  we  have  the  petrel's  point  of  view?  Is  he 
a  lonely  exile,  an  Ahasuerus  of  the  sea?  Is 
there  no  pleasure  in  existence  for  him  ?  Surely 
nature  never  planned  such  perfect  development 
without  meaning  to  turn  loneliness  into  so- 
ciety, hardships  into  pleasures,  and  exertion 
into  joy.  What  is  the  storm  to  the  well-lapped 
plumage,  the  seething  wave  to  the  finely  webbed 
foot,  or  the  winter  gale  to  the  masterful  wing  ? 
Merely  the  playthings  of  existence,  some  of  the 
stubborn  circumstances  from  which  are  wrung 
the  joy  of  living. 

The  flight  of  the  petrel,  the  incessant  throb 
of  his  wings  through  so  many  opposing  ele- 
ments, his  untiring  spirit  and  determination  to 
live  and  be  happy  even  on  a  bournelcss  ocean, 
is  there  not  in  these  a  now-familiar  lesson  for 
us?  Are  they  not  once  more  indicative,  even 
typical,  of  the  persistence  of  life  and  the  in- 
sistence that  the  species  shall  not  perish?  Al- 
ways where  the  conditions  are  so  unfavorable 
that  extinction  would  seem  the  only  result  at- 


The  soli- 
tary life. 


Joy  in 
adversity. 


The  -per- 
sistence of 
life. 


242 


THE   OPAL  SEA 


The  omni- 
present 
energy 


tainable  there  nature  puts  forth  an  extra  effort, 
launches  a  hardier  life,  is  more  triumphantly 
dominant  than  elsewhere.  Petrels  come  and 
petrels  go  but  the  type  remains.  The  dull  gray 
wings  flash  their  reflections  in  the  wave-facets 
to-day  as  thousands  of  years  ago.  They  shall 
always  be  as  they  have  been,  they  shall  always 
beat  and  hover  and  gather — fit  emblem  of  that 
omnipresent  energy  that  throughout  creation 
keeps  coming  and  going,  backward  and  for- 
ward, weaving  new  threads  into  the  fabric  of 
life  that  the  splendid  tapestry  shall  not  fade 
but  endure  and  be  a  joy  forever. 

And  always  with  energy,  life,  and  fitness  is 
the  gift  of  beauty.  To  the  sea  bird  is  given  not 
only  grace  in  flight  above  all  others,  but  also 
charm  of  color.  These  gray  wings  of  the  open 
sea  whose  neutral  tints  blend  so  easily  with 
mist  and  fog  and  cloud,  the  white  breasts  that 
match  the  breaking  foam,  the  black  backs  that 
seem  to  melt  at  night  into  the  purple  sea  itself, 
are  they  not  marvels  to  the  eye  though  not 
glittering  with  all  the  hues  of  the  rainbow? 
Their  wonderful  harmony  with  their  sea  back- 
ground should  acclaim  their  appropriateness, 
and,  consequently,  their  beauty. 

Blacks    and    whites    and    grays    in    nature's 


Fitness 
and  beauty. 


Coloring  of 
the   sea 
birds. 


m 
hands  are  never  other  than  badges  of  distinction 


GRAY    WINGS 


243 


and  refinement.  For  again,  and  still  again, 
unto  the  least  of  her  children  nature  has  given 
as  much  design  and  beauty  as  unto  the  greatest. 
Not  alone  for  those  that  walk  the  earth  or 
thread  the  lakes  and  rivers  does  she  labor;  but 
also  for  those  that  beat  the  coast  and  fly  the 
unfrequented  water-fields  of  the  ocean.  Gray 
Wings — they,  too,  are  a  part  of  the  plan,  they, 
too,  have  a  mission  to  fulfil,  and  they,  too, 
have  their  portion  of  the  life  and  care  and  wis- 
dom of  Creation. 


Gray 
Wtngs  a 
part  of  the 
pliin. 


CHAPTER    XII 


Coming 
down  to 
the  sea. 


The  native 
element. 


iJl 


SHIPS  THAT  PASS 

Coming  down  to  the  shore,  threading  a  way 
through  hills  or  fields  or  dunes,  with  what 
a  thrill  of  joy,  of  exultation,  we  at  last  behold 
the  outstretched  sea!  The  sight  gives  one 
pause.  The  far-away  shimmer  of  the  surface, 
the  great  body  of  color,  the  myriads  of  dancing 
waves,  the  vastness  of  the  expanse,  hold  the  at- 
tention spell-bound.  For  the  nonce  the  smell 
of  salt  air,  the  sound  of  surge,  the  wash  of 
breakers,  the  scream  of  tern  and  gull,  keep 
beating  at  our  senses  in  vain.  Perhaps  we  are 
silent  or  overcome  or  at  least  fearful  lest  we 
cry  out  with  emotional  feeling.  And  if  we  did 
wfe  should  not  be  exceptional  or  singular. 
When  Xenophon  and  the  retreating  Ten  Thou- 
sand finally  came  within  sight  of  the  Euxine 
the  whole  army  shouted.  The  sea  no  doubt  was 
a  glimpse  of  home  to  them;  and  in  a  larger 
sense  it  may  mean  the  same  thing  to  us.     For 

"All  mankind  is  thus  at  heart 
Not  anything  but  what  thou  art 
And  Earth,  Sea,  Man  are  all  in  each." 
244 


SHIPS  THAT   PASS 


245 


There  is,  at  times,  a  feeling  common  to  every 
one  of  us  that  we  are  a  part  of  the  universal 
whole,  that  sometime  in  the  history  of  the  race 
we  were  more  closely  related  to  the  elements 
than  now;  and  that  perhaps  originally  the  sea 
was  the  cradle  of  us  all. 

But  how  long  do  we  dream  of  our  elemental 
origin,  how  long  are  we  impressed  or  emotional 
or  exclamatory  over  the  immensity  of  the  sea? 
We  wander  by  the  shore,  we  follow  the  rise  and 
fall  of  trooping  waves,  watch  the  rush  of  water 
up  the  beach,  and  presently,  for  all  our  love 
of  the  beautiful,  we  are  looking  at  things  and 
not  seeing  them.  The  mind  becomes  uneasy, 
lonely,  somewhat  afraid;  and  finally  reverts  to 
mankind  and  the  doings  of  the  race.  Then  the 
eyes  no  longer  behold  the  sea.  They  sweep 
around  the  horizon  not  for  the  sapphire  glow  of 
the  waves  but  for  what  the  waves  may  tell  of 
humanity,  not  for  the  gray  wings  that  come 
and  go  along  the  hollows  and  the  crests  but  for 
the  white  wings  of  ships  that  rise  and  fall. 

A  sail !  a  sail !  How  the  vision  strains  at  the 
distant  spot  of  dull  white!  How  closely  that 
spot  is  scanned  for  sign  or  signal  of  whence  it 
came  or  whither  it  goes !  We  have  an  interest, 
a  sympathy  there.  For  each  ship  with  her  com- 
pany and  cargo  that  hovers  along  the  distant 


Emotions 
by  the  sea. 


The  uneasy 
mind. 


The  dis- 
tant sail. 


246 


THE   OPAL  SEA 


horizon  stretching  her  wings  for  Good  Hope  or 
the  Horn,  is  a  venture  that  puts  man's  inven- 
tion and  supremacy  to  the  test  anew.  And 
besides  there  go  our  friends  and  kindred.  Will 
they  come  back  from  the  roaring  sea  successful 
in  their  enterprise  or  will  those  sails  fade  into 
the   Great   Silence  and  never  be  heard  from 


The  dis- 
appearing 
ship. 


Watchers 
of  the  sea. 


Ships  that 
have  passed. 


again?  What  wonder,  indeed,  that  hopes  and 
fears  and  prayers  should  go  with  her,  and  that 
eyes  should  strain  after  the  white  canvas  until 
it  drop  below  the  verge? 

It  was  always  so.  In  all  ages  there  have  been 
watchers  of  the  sea — tear-dimmed  eyes  follow- 
ing the  disappearing  sails,  bright  eyes  watch- 
ing the  rising  ones.  A  Scandinavian  drakkar 
with  its  leather  sail  and  dragon  prow,  beating 
seaward  from  some  stubborn  coast  on  warfare 
bent,  or  an  Egyptian  galley  with  its  purple,  per- 
fumed sails,  carrying  a  Cleopatra  up  to  Eome, 
never  yet  sank  below  the  distant  rim  but  that 
dark  eyes  marked  its  disappearance.  The  head- 
lands and  beacon  points  have  furnished  look- 
outs for  many  centuries. 

And  in  that  time  what  ships  have  passed ! 
Sails  of  skin,  of  papyrus,  of  bamboo,  of  wool, 
of  hemp — lug  sails,  square  sails,  lateen  sails — 
in  brilliant  procession  have  swept  athwart  the 
two  immensities,  their  great  wind  areas  darkly 


SHIPS   THAT  PASS 


247 


dyed  with  scarlet,  orange,  blue  and  purple. 
The  gorgeous  butterflies  of  commerce,  chased 
by  the  eager  winds  from  sea  to  sea — the  wine- 
dark  galleys  of  the  ^gean,  the  red  and  azure 
argosies  of  the  Adriatic,  the  gilded  galleons  of 
the  Atlantic — have  gone  their  way.  In  de- 
serted harbors  and  along  unfrequented  water 
ways  of  the  East  some  reminders  of  them  may 
still  be  seen ;  Imt  the  old  order  has  changed  and 
the  erstwhile  golden  age  of  navigation  has  given 
place  to  something  new. 

Yet  the  sea  has  never  lacked  for  ships  to  sail 
it.  With  each  generation  are  launched  new 
hulls,  new  sails,  new  fears,  new  hopes.  The 
harbor  to-day  sends  forth  ships  as  a  hive  its 
working  bees,  and  each  craft  as  she  beats  out 
to  sea  is  followed  by  eager  eyes  and  applauding 
voices.  The  interest  has  not  diminished  in  the 
least.  Nor  has  the  beauty  of  the  ship  grown 
less.  For  there  is  a  beauty  of  ships  as  of  sea 
birds,  though  the  association  of  thought  is 
rather  to  the  detriment  of  the  former.  The 
fairest  wings  of  the  most  graceful  pleasiire 
yacht  that  ever  rode  a  summer  sea  are  but 
clumsy  mechanism  compared  with  the  white 
wings  of  the  albatross  or  the  black  wings  of  the 
frigate  bird.  Nothing  of  human  device  can^ 
match  the  design  of  nature.     The  true  sailer  I 


The  butter- 
flies of 
commerce. 


The  harbor 
to-day. 


White  wings 
anil  gray 
■winys. 


248 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  full- 
rigged  ship. 


Colors  of 
her  sails. 


is  born  not  made.  Yet  considered  by  itself 
the  sail  boat  is  a  marvel  of  grace;  and  to  this 
latest  day  it  is  still  a  grand  sight  to  see  a 
full-rigged  ship  bowling  down  the  bay,  bound 
for  the  open  sea, 

"With  all  her  bravery  on,  and  tackle  trim, 
Sails  fill'd,  and  streamers  waving, 
Courted  by  all  the  winds  that  hold  them  play." 

And  how  splendidly  picturesque  she  is  as  she 
foots  it  out  to  sea  with  her  spread  of  silver 
canvas  showing  against  the  blue  sky  and  slashed 
here  and  there  by  light  and  shade !  She  pitches 
and  lifts,  careens  and  rights  again;  and  all  her 
canvas  goes  rolling  with  her — not  violently,  but 
gently  drifting  like  white  clouds  in  summer 
weather.  Perhaps  at  evening  she  is  standing 
still  upon  the  horizon,  half-becalmed,  flattened 
against  a  purple  bank  of  sea  mist,  and  the  orange 
hues  of  sunset  are  weaving  strange  colors  in 
her  drooping  sails;  or,  stranger  still,  if  from 
the  Golden  Gate  she  beats  out  to  sea  against  a 
yellow  sunset,  all  her  sails  turn  azure ;  or  if  the 
sun  be  red  the  sails  assume  a  fairy  green. 

The  sun  is,  indeed,  a  wonderful  alchemist 
and  loves  to  throw  delicate,  complementary  and 
reflected  colors  on  neutral  grounds.  And  noth- 
ing could  be  a  finer  field  than  a  great,  white 


SHIPS   THAT   PASS 


249 


sail — except  a  great,  colored  sail.  The  cruise 
of  a  yachting  squadron  up  the  Atlantic  coast 
in  July,  the  schooners  careening  under  clouds 
of  white  canvas,  is  certainly  impressive.  Not 
only  lightness  of  movement  is  there,  but  count- 
less combinations  of  shadow  and  color  as  well. 
By  comparison  the  fishing  boats  that  put  off 
from  Ragusa  or  Corfu  are  heavy  in  their  move- 
ments. The  lateen  sails  sway  easily  enough, 
but  the  barcas  ride  low  and  careen  little.  Color, 
however,  saves  them.  A  few  miles  away,  where 
form  and  movement  become  less  apparent,  the 
yellow,  orange,  and  red  sails  show  merely  as 
triangular  spots  on  the  blue  sea;  and  blending 
as  they  do  into  the  rosy  strata  of  sea  air  they 
become  marvelous  in  depth  of  hue. 

Nothing  connected  with  ships  is  quite  so  col- 
orful as  this.  The  Venetian  sails  coming  up 
the  Adriatic  at  sunset — ruby  lights  upon  a  sea 
of  pearl — have  been  pictured  many  times;  but 
the  gem-like  quality  of  the  coloring  has  never 
been  painted.  Compared  with  them  the  can- 
vas of  the  Gloucester  fleet  moving  toward  the 
Banks  is  a  dismal  gray,  and  the  Concarneau 
boats,  coming  home  at  evening,  appear  as 
wedges  of  dull  chocolate-brown.  The  sails  of 
the  Adriatic,  famous  since  the  days  of  the  Bu- 
centaur,  are  still  wonderful  to  behold. 


A  white 
yachting 
squadrun. 


Colored 
sails  of  the 
Adriatic. 


Venetian 
fish  I II (J 
boats. 


250 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  ocean 
steamer. 


The 

steamer 
putting  to 
sea. 


But  however  much  of  actual  beauty  clings  to 
a  sail,  and  however  much  of  traditional  rever- 
ence bids  us  scorn  an  innovation,  is  there  not 
something  to  be  said  for  the  grim,  fire-spitting 
ocean  steamer?  In  common  with  all  steam  de- 
vices the  steamship  has  come  in  for  a  fair  share 
of  denunciation;  but  as  a  machine,  as  a  resist- 
less force,  is  there  not  something  here  to  stir 
the  pulses?  As  she  sweeps  down  the  harbor 
and  out  over  the  bar,  flags  streaming,  black 
smoke  trailing,  wide  wake  rolling,  what  could 
be  finer !  She  sits  low  down  aft,  she  rises  up 
clean  and  keen  forward,  her  cutwater  is  as  eager 
as  a  headsman's  axe,  her  smoke  stacks  have  a 
slant  astern  as  though  ready  for  any  wind  or 
wave.  What  a  sense  of  power  is  there!  What 
can  stop  the  passage  of  that  dark  conqueror! 
And  she  moves  with  no  apparent  effort.  The 
source  of  power  is  not  disclosed  to  the  eye. 
Nor  can  the  ear  detect  the  beat  of  engines. 
The  steel  mass  seems  to  be  driven  by  a  force 
as  invisible  as  resistless. 

No  prayers  to  Oceanus,  the  parent  of  the 
gods,  go  up  when  the  ocean  liner  puts  to  sea. 
^olus  is  not  invoked  for  favorable  winds  nor 
are  the  Tritons  and  Nereides  put  in  good  hu- 
mor with  promises  and  offerings.  The  ship 
of  steel  and  steam  seems  to  care  little  for  the 


SHIPS  THAT   PASS 


251 


elements.     The  tremendous  power  in  the  en- 
gines   carries   her    through    wind    and    storm, 

spray 


throusrh  wave  and 


Nothing 


halts 


or 


holds  her  for  more  than  a  moment.  As  the 
waters  come  rushing  at  her  there  is  an  easy 
bend  and  sway  to  the  long  body;  she  rises  and 
falls,  rolls  quietly  with  a  broadside,  pitches 
sharply  with  a  head  sea;  but  there  is  no  pause, 
no  stop.  The  steady  thrust  of  the  screws  keeps 
driving  her  ever  on  and  on.  Far  away  at  sea 
her  motion  is  still  apparent,  and  finally  when 
she  is  hull  down  beyond  the  rim,  and  only  the 
black  banner  of  smoke  trailing  along  the  hori- 
zon tells  where  she  "  blows,"  we  still  feel  that 
she  is  moving,  shouldering  the  waves  away, 
pushing  on  and  on ;  methodically,  mechanically 
if  you  will,  but  still  resistlessly. 

The  mechanism  and  the  method  become  al- 
most human  in  their  stuliborn  perseverance 
when  the  vessel  is  steaming  in  storm  against 
fierce  head  winds.  There  is  the  deep  plunge  of 
the  bow  in  the  waves,  the  alternate  lift  of  the 
stern  out  of  water,  the  swift  racing  of  the  ex- 
posed screws  for  a  few  moments;  and  then  the 
settling  down  again  to  a  steady  thump-thump, 
thump-thump,  thump-thump  !  The  waves  may 
board  her  and  break  davits,  bridges,  and  stan- 
chions, she  may  pitch  and  roll  till  cabin  and 


The  power 
of  steam. 


The  steady 
drive  for- 
ward. 


Stemming 

throuy/i 

storm. 


2.52 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The   per- 
sistent 
engines. 


The  pie- 
tjiresque 
ship  at  sea. 


hold  are  a  series  of  crashes  and  smashes,  but 
those  indomitable  engines  keep  up  their  pulsa- 
tions. You  lie  awake  in  the  middle  of  the 
night  clinging  to  your  berth,  hearing  the  whip- 
like swish  of  the  spray  flying  by  the  port  hole, 
listening  to  the  roar  of  the  wind  in  the  rigging, 
feeling  the  vessel  pitch  and  stagger  under  you, 
and  perhaps  wondering  if  rivets  and  plates  of 
steel  can  long  hold  out  against  such  wrenching ; 
but  still  beneath  you,  skipping  no  beat,  is  the 
welcome  thump-thump,  thump-thump,  thump- 
thump  of  the  engines.  She  was  designed  to 
defy  the  winds  and  fight  the  elements  and  she 
does  it — with  some  groanings  from  strained 
partition,  beam,  and  girder  it  may  be,  but  still 
she  does  it. 

All  ships  that  come  and  go  along  the  water- 
ways, whether  by  steam  or  by  sail,  have  pic- 
torial importance  in  the  panorama  of  the  seas. 
Not  pleasure  yacht  or  ocean  "greyhound" 
alone,  not  the  lateen  sails  of  Venice  or  the  gray 
wings  of  Newfoundland;  but  the  lone  bark 
that  stands  up  along  the  horizon  like  a  square 
tower,  the  coasting  schooner  that  trails  her  flat 
sails  along  some  rocky  shore,  the  tank  steamer 
slowly  moving  with  her  own  cloud  of  smoke, 
the  big  freighter  lumbering  up  and  down  the 
distant  waves — they  all  have  their  measure  of 


SHIPS   THAT   PASS 


253 


beauty  in  the  scene.  Even  the  battleship  and 
the  arrow-like  torpedo  boat,  if  we  could  forget 
their  grim  mission  on  the  seas,  might  prove 
attractive.  Certainly  their  graceful  motion, 
their  enormous  rush  through  the  water,  the  in- 
herent power  felt  in  every  push  or  curve  or 
bend  of  them,  commands  not  only  respect  but 
admiration.  Perhaps  we  are  too  near  to  them 
now  to  see  them  sympathetically,  but  when 
these  times  shall  become  the  "  good  old  times," 
there  will  be  poetry  and  to  spare  about  the 
present-day  thunderers  of  the  seas. 

Romance  usually  clings  to  things  that  are 
past  and  eventually  all  the  ships  pass  on — pass 
out.  Eibs  of  oak  and  plates  of  steel  and  tur- 
rets of  nickel  find  a  common  resting  place 
sooner  or  later.  It  is  as  often  in  the  depths  as 
on  the  shore,  and  every  coast  has  its  graveyard 
where,  far  down  in  the  darkness,  schooner,  brig, 
barkentine,  steamer  and  cruiser  nestle  side  by 
side  in  the  soft  ooze  of  the  bottom  and  know 
the  wind  and  the  wave  no  more.  Perhaps  with 
them  and  near  them  are  scattered  the  bones  of 
many  a  crew  that  went  down  with  the  ship, 
lashed  in  the  rigging  or  caught  under  hatches. 
And  perhaps  again  no  word  ever  came  back 
from  the  sea  to  tell  the  fate  of  either  men  or 
ships.     This  it  is  that  is  accounted  the  "  mys- 


The  oaltle- 
ship  and 
our  point 
of  view. 


The  com- 
mon rest- 
ing pirice 
of  ships. 


254 


THE   OPAL  SEA 


The  tragedy 
of  the  sea. 


The  un- 
thinking 
sea  not 
'  'rapa- 
cious." 


The  grim 
tea  tales 
furnished 
by  men. 


tery  "  and  the  "  tragedy  "  of  the  sea.  The  de- 
struction of  the  sea  life  that  goes  on  beneath 
the  surface  day  in  and  day  out,  the  killing  and 
devouring,  the  slaughter  of  untold  millions  for 
food,  are  accepted  as  matters  of  course,  things 
of  no  great  moment;  but  when  the  destruction 
extends  to  man,  when  two  hundred  men  die  in 
the  sea  instead  of  in  the  air,  the  event  is  a 
"  horror  "  and  the  sea  is  referred  to  as  "  rapa- 
cious "  or  as  a  "  remorseless  monster." 

But  the  unthinking  sea  is  it  so  much  more 
"  remorseless  "  than  the  other  elements  or  more 
"  rapacious "  than  the  personified  deities  of 
men?  Did  not  the  gods  at  Ilios  spin  the  web 
of  death  for  some  that  others  in  the  time  to 
come  might  have  a  song?  And  do  not  all  the 
elements — all  great  Nature's  self  at  times — 
turn  "red  in  tooth  and  claw"  and  spread  de- 
struction up  and  down  the  world?  The  sea  by 
itself  considered  is  neither  "  mysterious  "  nor 
"  tragic  "  nor  "  rapacious  " ;  it  is  simply  the 
sea. 

And  whatsoever  of  evil  may  be  found  upon 
the  waters  has  it  not  followed  upon  the  foot- 
steps of  man?  The  wars  of  maritime  states, 
the  oi)pression  of  conquerors,  the  atrocities 
of  the  slavers,  the  ravages  of  the  buccaneers, 
have    always    furnished    forth    the    grim    sea 


SHIPS   THAT   PASS 


255 


tales.  What  pages  smeared  with  blood  and 
reeking  with  smoke  they  are !  We  read  the 
record,  count  over  the  destruction — the  wanton 
waste  by  fire  and  sword  of  life  and  loveliness 
— and  sadly  wonder  that  such  things  could  ever 
be.  Nor  does  the  present  furnish  forth  a  less 
ghastly  story.  There  is  no  more  of  the  pirate's 
brigantine  flying  the  black  flag  upon  the  high 
seas;  but  the  battle  ship  of  civilization  is  with 
us  to  deal  out,  in  the  name  of  liberty  and  en- 
lightenment, a  destruction  more  violent  and 
more  widespread.  Is  the  change  very  much  for 
the  better?  Is  death  hurled  from  a  machine 
gun  preferable  to  walking  the  plank?  And  in 
all  time,  in  all  history,  has  not  the  real  "  hor- 
ror "  of  the  sea  been  not  storm  but  man ;  and 
the  "  remorseless  monster "  not  the  wave  but 
man's  beautiful  engine  of  destruction,  the  ship  ? 
If  the  tale  were  truly  told  it  would  be  roman- 
tic only  in  its  hideousness.  For  the  bloodshed 
and  the  ruin  of  it  have  not  resulted  from  the 
pursuit  of  life  or  happiness  or  knowledge  or 
beauty  or  even  fair  commerce.  From  the  be- 
ginning the  quest  of  the  Argonauts  has  been  the 
golden  fleece.  Men  have  ventured  and  en- 
dured and  labored  and  died  for  mere  gold. 
That  gilded  lure  drew  on  the  early  explorers 
through  harrowing  hardships  to  the  most  dis- 


The  real 
horror  of 
the  sea. 


The  quest 
of  gold  and 
its  results. 


256 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  hard- 
sh  ips  of  the 
explorers. 


Searching 
for  pnld  at 
the  north. 


tant  seas.  Even  the  Arctic  regions  were  ran- 
sacked in  the  search.  For  at  one  time  the  tra- 
dition obtained  that  under  the  Northern  Lights, 
under  the  pole  was  hidden  gold  in  fabulous 
quantities,  guarded  by  gnomes  and  goblins  as 
the  Eheingold  by  Mimi  and  the  Ehine  Maidens. 
But  the  seekers  found  only  starvation  and  the 
cold  of  death.  The  vast  unknown  of  the  Arc- 
tic, the  weird  lights  of  summer,  the  brilliant 
coloring  of  the  auroras,  the  twilight  skies,  the 
walls  of  ice  crystal,  the  waves  of  glass,  the  pur- 
ple shadows  upon  snow  and  ice  were  all  lost 
upon  the  voyagers.  They  were  bent  upon  a 
more  sordid  mission. 

Even  to  this  day,  when  the  treasure-tales 
have  grovm  somewhat  threadbare,  the  forecastle 
still  listens  to  accounts  of  Kidd's  wealth  buried 
on  Gardiner's  Island ;  to  the  tale  of  the  Spanish 
galleon  "  San  Pedro "  sunk  in  the  Margarita 
Channel  on  the  Central  American  coast  so  many 
years  ago,  with  all  her  golden  images  and  pre- 
cious stones  and  thirty  millions  in  doubloons; 
to  the  legend  of  the  French  frigate,  "  La  Lu- 
tino  "  which  went  down  in  the  Zuider  Zee  with 
three  hundred  and  thirty  golden  bars  beside 
bags  and  kegs  of  coin.  The  glitter  of  gold  still 
dazzles. 

The  races  of  to-day  have  been,  in  some  re- 


Sunken 
treasures. 


SHIPS  THAT  PASS 


257 


spects,  true  enough  descendants  of  the  Argo- 
nauts. The  oceans  are  still  harried  and  quar- 
reled over  in  the  name  of  gain;  and  that  race 
hatred,  which  has  so  often  turned  the  sea  into 
a  plain  of  battles  and  tinged  the  blue  waves 
crimson,  has  been  the  natural  consequence  of 
the  pursuit.  Yet  not  every  ship  has  flown  the 
red  flag  of  hate,  and  not  every  crew  has  been 
on  conquest  bent.  The  peaceful  trader  has  al- 
ways skirted  the  coasts.  The  honest  merchant- 
man, the  carrier,  the  middleman  of  the  nations 
with  his  cargoes  of  stuffs,  dyes,  jewels  and  fair 
produce  runs  back  to  Egyptian  days.  Even 
with  the  great  discoverers  of  Spain  there  went 
out  caravels  on  missions  of  peace  and  good-will 
to  men;  and,  in  our  own  time,  lines  of  full- 
rigged  ships  have  gone  around  the  Capes  in  the 
Oriental  trade  and  swift-traveling  clippers  have 
come  and  gone  to  Europe  and  to  China,  to 
Australia  and  the  islands  of  the  seas,  in  the 
interests  of  morality  and  religion  as  well  as 
commerce. 

They  still  come  and  go,  faster  now  with 
steam  than  in  the  days  of  the  famous  "  Dread- 
nought "  and  "  Red  Jacket " ;  and  the  compen- 
sation for  envy  and  race  hatred  is  coming  in 
with  a  better  understanding  among  the  nations. 
Moreover  the   growth   of   commerce   and   the 


Race 
hatred  on 
the  sea. 


The  early 
carriers  and 
merchant- 
men. 


Ocean 
liners  of 
to-day. 


258 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


Growing 
apprecia- 
tion of  sea 
beauty. 


Atlantic 
crossingt. 


speed  of  travel  have  done  much  to  bring  people 
together,  done  much  to  educate  and  enlighten 
mankind.  The  sea  instead  of  being  the  impass- 
able waste  it  once  was  has  now  become  the 
highway  of  the  world,  and  those  who  travel 
it  have  not  only  come  to  a  truer  comprehension 
of  their  fellows,  but  they  have  grown  to  love 
the  highway  and  the  journey  along  it. 

For  with  a  knowledge  of  the  sea  there  is 
beginning  to  dawn  in  these  latter  days  some 
appreciation  of  its  purpose,  its  uses,  and  its 
superlative  beauty.  Now  as  the  ocean  steamer 
puts  out  for  Europe  with  five  hundred  or  a 
thousand  on  her  passenger  list  not  a  few  of  that 
number  have  a  pleasure  in  the  thought : 

"Eastward,  as  far  as  the  eye  can  see 
Still  eastward,  eastward  endlessly 
The  sparkle  and  tremor  of  purple  sea." 

The  crossing  means  to  them  something  more 
than  a  week  of  discomfort  in  the  cabin ;  and  the 
sea,  as  they  follow  its  changes  day  by  day  and 
see  its  waters  run  the  gamut  of  blue,  green, 
violet  and  purple,  becomes  the  most  wonderful 
of  all  the  elements.  Year  by  year  the  wonder 
grows.  All  the  brightness  of  the  earth  is  but 
the  sea's  reflection.  The  life,  the  energy,  the 
color  of  the  globe,  the  opaline  vapors  blown 


SHIPS   THAT  PASS 


259 


about  the  heavens,  the  sky  and  the  gorgeous 
staining  of  the  horizon  clouds,  come  from  the 
sea.  There  is  nothing  it  does  not  share,  no 
splendor  that  it  has  not  illuminated,  no  beauty 
that  it  has  not  made.  The  sea  is  above  all,  the 
supreme  element ! 

And  yet  from  that  steamer  deck  sometimes 
sad  eyes  look  out  at  night  upon  the  rush  of 
waters  with  their  flashing  white  caps,  and  in 
the  tumult  of  the  stormy  surface  see  only  the 
likeness  to  the  human  struggle,  the  maddening 
strife  for  position  and  power, 

"the  turbid  ebb  and  flow 
Of  human  misery." 

Inevitably  will  come  with  such  a  vision  the  use- 
lessness  of  endeavor,  the  hopelessness  of  con- 
flict, the  certainty  of  defeat  and  death.  If 
death  then  why  postpone  it?  Why  drag  on 
another  day,  another  year,  only  to  be  beaten 
down  and  overwhelmed  at  last? 

But  that  way  lies  madness.  And  for  the  mad 
the  sea  has  her  own  special  lure.  The  foaming 
caps  keep  beckoning  with  long,  white  fingers, 
and  every  wave  that  races  dovm  the  steamer's 
side  seems  calling  "  Come !  Come !  "  And  men 
from  time  to  time — mad  men — ^have  answered 
with  a  sudden  spring  over  the  rail  and  into  the 


The  aii- 

preme 

element 


A   false 
view. 


The  lure 
of  the  sea. 


260 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  suicide. 


Neither 
life  nor  the 
aea  always 
storm- 
tossed. 


The  main- 
tenance of 
life. 


dark  sea;  a  wild  plunge,  feared  and  yet  urged 
by  some  demoniac  impulse.  Perhaps  contact 
with  the  water  has  suddenly  dispelled  delusion 
and  the  repentant  one  has  come  strangling  to 
the  surface  with  a  frenzied  cry  for  help.  Who 
hears?  And  what  help  can  avail  in  night  and 
storm  ?  There  is  a  swift  rush  past  of  the  black 
side  of  the  steamer,  a  useless  clutch  at  it  in 
the  dark,  the  whirl  and  seethe  and  bubble  of 
the  water  churned  by  the  screws,  and  a  glimpse 
of  a  ship's  taffrail  vanishing  in  darkness.  Then 
the  beat  of  crested  waves,  the  fierce  slash  of 
spray  across  the  eyes,  the  rush  of  smothering 
seas  over  the  defenseless  head ;  and  in  the  gray 
morning  gulls  hovering  and  calling  over  a  white 
face  awash  on  the  waves. 

But  the  analogy  is  misleading.  Life  is  not 
like  the  tumult  of  a  storm-tossed  sea.  It  has 
its  quiet  periods,  its  hopeful  years,  its  joys  and 
triumphs  and  successes.  The  sea  is  not  always 
agitated.  It  has  its  days  of  calms,  its  mornings 
of  brilliancy,  its  noons  of  drowsiness,  its  even- 
ings of  splendor.  And  the  great  law  of  nature 
that  all  life  shall  struggle  for  existence,  that 
all  the  old  shall  pass  away  and  be  superseded 
by  the  new,  that  the  type  shall  remain  though 
the  unit  perish,  is  the  only  conceivable  way  of 
maintaining  the  order  of  the  universe  and  fend- 


SHIPS  THAT   PASS 


261 


ing  off  extinction  and  decay,  ^^^lat  matters 
it  that  the  individual  is  lost?  What  matter 
that  the  sea  adds  here  or  destroys  there?  The 
energy  and  purity  and  life  of  it  still  continue. 

And  shall  continue.  The  great  waters  should 
be  the  last  to  go.  That  we  do  not  stay  to  the 
end,  if  there  be  an  end,  is  of  no  great  moment. 
We  have  played  our  part  and  entered  into  the 
fulness  of  being,  struggling  with  the  energy 
within  us,  and  enjoying  the  struggle.  Nor  is 
our  output  scattered  to  the  winds.  The  new 
generations  inherit  and  in  them  is  the  old  life 
continued.  It  should  not  be  a  sad  thought  that 
when  we,  like  ships,  have  passed  on,  the  world 
will  last,  that  its  beauty  will  always  be  renewed, 
and  that  others  will  enjoy  what  we  have  known. 
Eather  should  it  be  wished  that  the  fabric 
builded  so  perfectly,  fashioned  so  wonderfully, 
might  endure  forever;  and  that  the  newer  eyes 
as  they  open  to  the  light  might  see  still  further 
and  more  truly  than  our  own.  Each  coming 
man  in  vision  counts  himself  beyond  his  father ; 
but  it  may  be  the  world  that  changes  rather 
than  our  eyes.  In  the  time  to  come  who  can 
say  what  finer  garmenting  shall  clothe  the  hills, 
what  greater  splendor  shall  adorn  the  sea ! 

Yet  may  the  beauty  that  has  been,  continue ! 
May  ships  sail  on  and  eyes  still  follow  them  till 


The  sea  the 
last  to  go. 


New  eyr.i 
openmsi  to 
the  light. 


262 


THE   OPAL   SEA 


The  beauty 
that  shall  he. 


darkness  settle  in  the  purple  east;  may  gray- 
wings  come  and  go  along  the  deep  wave-hollows 
and  sea  weeds  stream  beneath  in  swirling  cur- 
rents and  blue  waves  pour  upon  the  shell-strewn 
beaches  where  crumbling  cliff  and  broken  prom- 
ontory look  outward  at  the  distant  ocean !  And 
may  that  ocean  with  its  shifting  surface,  in 
calm  or  storm,  be  grander  far  arid  more  sub- 
lime than  ever;  and  may  the  eyes  that  watch 
see  with  a  calmer  faith  and  brighter  the  sun 
and  moon  rise  up  from  out  the  wave,  and  in 
the  growing  dusk  of  years  behold  new  stars  of 
promise  come  forth  with  tremulous  splendor  to 
shine  upon  the  Opal  Sea. 


BOOKS  BY  JOHN  C  VAN  DYKE 

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**  Has  all  the  recommendations  that  are  to  be  looked 
for  in  essays  of  the  kind.  They  take  a  broad  survey, 
they  deal  with  the  points  that  it  is  worth  while  to  know 
about,  they  are  perfectly  lucid,  and  they  are  very  charm- 
ing in  their  literary  art." — New  York  Sun. 

"Temperate  and  appreciative." — Atlantic   Monthly. 

**  Written  in  an  easy,  entertaining  style." 

— New  York  Tribune. 


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